Silent Screams
by DCKidWing13
Summary: Spencer Reid has a problem. But this time, it's not drugs. Will he get help or fall further than he ever has before? YOU DECIDE! Trigger Warnings: Eating Disorders, Purge, Binge, Anorexia, Bulimia, and self-harm. What happens next is up to you (read Author's Note at bottom for a better explanation).
1. Chapter 1

**All my works are ****_self-beta_**, so any and all mistakes were foolishly made by me. **I do not own any CM characters.** If I did, there would be quite a few changes in the show. **I do not profit from this story.** If I did, I'd upload a lot more and a lot sooner, don't you think?

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**Author's Note:**** All Right! My first ****_Criminal Minds_**** Fanfiction! This is also the first Fanfiction I've done on eating disorders. This is going to be different from any FF I've done before, so please read the A/N at the bottom once you've finished the chapter. And without further ado, we're off!**

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He looked in the mirror in disgust. He was so hideous. He could hardly stand to look at himself. Why did he have to be so _fat_? Why couldn't he be like Morgan or Hotch or even Rossi? _They_ are what he _should_ look like. Attractive. Well-built. Strong. _Fit_.

He sighed in frustration. He would _never_ amount to them. But the least he could do is make himself at least a little less bothersome to look at. He worked with such attractive people every day; they didn't deserve to have to settle with his ugliness. But they were stuck with him. He felt so sorry for them. He wished he could do more to make himself more tolerable, but this was all he could offer. So with another sigh, he leaned over the toilet and closed his eyes as he shoved two fingers down his throat.

At first, nothing came up. He didn't have anything in his stomach _to_ come up. But he felt so _fat_; surely _something_ was there. He tried again and then again. Finally, a small amount of bile came up just as he was beginning to feel light-headed. He paused for a brief moment when he noticed the blood that was swirling around in the toilet. He then shrugged, and, with a tremendous amount of effort, he stood up and flushed away the evidence of his purging. He then cleaned himself up in a manner that seemed routine to him now and began to dress for work.

It hadn't always been like this. He hadn't always been aware of just how _atrocious_ he was. It all began two months ago, during the holiday season. That's when everything changed. That's when he realized the truth about himself. And that's when he decided to change it…

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**A/N:**** This FF will be different than anything I've done before in that it will be YOUR Fanfic. What happens from now on in the story will be based on what you, the readers, want to happen. So if you would like to see something specific happen in the next chapter of later on in the story, just leave a review and I will try to include it. BUT this story will ONLY progress IF I receive feedback. So leave suggestions either via review or PM. Once I'm given a good idea, I'll try to have the next chapter up ASAP. This is my first time writing a FF based on readers' suggestions, so I really hope that it goes well!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N****: Thanks to everyone who has already left reviews! I hope this chapter does at least a small bit of justice to you all.**

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Chapter 2

He looked anxiously at the time. In a few minutes, the team would be gathering for lunch. They already made plans for Mexican take-outs today. He gathered up his bag and jacket as he quickly walked toward the BAU's sad excuse for a "kitchen". He would just grab a bottle of water then quickly head outside for the walk he usually planned during this time. If he moved fast enough, he would be out of the building before anyone could notice him. When the team asked him why he didn't have lunch with them, he would just say "oh, sorry, it must have slipped my mind. I got caught up in thinking about this new Indian restaurant I've wanted to visit. Maybe next time?" And the team would look at him oddly but then shrug it off and go back to work. Then he'd be safe…until the next time.

He was putting the water in his bag and heading out the kitchen when he nearly collided with Aaron Hotchner. His boss raised an eyebrow at him. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Oh, um, nowhere. I was just about to…get some fresh air." The last part was said unconvincingly and he mentally kicked himself for not being a better liar. He knew there was no way anyone would believe that, let alone a _profiler._

Hotch gave him a questioning look, but did not comment on his obvious lie. "The team is about to order lunch. You might want to be there when we do or else Morgan will order for you. And I don't think the two of you share the same preferences." Hotch moved from the doorway so Reid could go before him.

Reid swallowed nervously. "Um…thanks…for warning me, but…um, I-I'm really not hungry at the moment." Hotch gave him a disbelieving stare. "B-but I'll make sure to be there the next time the team has lunch." Hotch continued staring. "Um, s-so if you'll please excuse me…" Reid tried to hurriedly walk passed Hotch but he stopped when he felt a hand catch his arm.

"Reid…" He turned to look at Hotch who now held a look of concern. Reid, however, took it as pity. "Listen, I don't know what's going on with you but I know that something is not right. Did you think no one has noticed you skipping lunch for the past three weeks?" Hotch let go of Reid's arm, hoping Reid would still listen to him. "This isn't healthy, Reid. You're losing weight. You can't afford to stop eating."

Reid's eyes widened at him. _'He said…I'm losing weight. He noticed. That means…it's working! It's actually working!'_ Reid felt a wave of joy go through him._ 'Finally, some results!'_

"Reid, you're an intelligent young man. I know you know the dangers of not eating enough." Reid blinked. He had been so wrapped up in the idea of him finally improving that he'd forgotten Hotch was still speaking to him. "So, why don't you come and order your food, so everyone can stop worrying about you?"

_'Worrying about me? Great…now I've gotten the entire team worried. I always have to cause trouble for everyone, don't I? Hmm…well, I suppose it won't hurt just to order something, so long as it gets the team off my back.'_

He gave a nod and a small smile. "Yeah…okay." He swallowed again as he went to where the team was waiting, Hotch following shortly behind. _'Besides…I could probably think of a way to get out of this. Maybe say I got the wrong order…or I could do a sleight of hand trick with my food to make them think I'm eating it.'_

Reid sat next to Morgan at the table in the conference room. Prentiss was just finishing her order as Hotch took his seat next to Rossi on the other side of the table. Hotch looked at Reid for a moment as though he expected the younger agent to run away. He then turned toward Garcia to give his order, afterwards engaging in a conversation with Rossi about something only the two of them could possibly be interested in.

Reid was the last to order. He cleared his throat and licked his lips nervously as Garcia waited patiently. "Um…" He quickly thought about Mexican foods that held the fewest calories. But he furrowed his eyebrows in frustration when he realized that this was a restaurant he'd never been to before. He didn't know what they had to offer.

"I don't…I'm not sure what to order. I don't usually eat Mexican foods." He looked hopelessly at Garcia who seemed ready to go into a full explanation of the many Mexican foods he could choose from.

It was then that J.J. intervened. "Don't worry, Spence," she said, winking. "I've got you covered." She then proceeded to whisper something in Garcia's ear that made Garcia smile brightly and nod in agreement.

"Ooooh, I think Reid'll like that." Garcia giggled as she wrote down the order and then pulled out her phone to call Comida de Amos.

Ten minutes later, the team was reaching into bags to find their individual foods. Reid looked appalled when he was handed his meal. He was given a plate of enchiladas that were **SMOTHERED** in cheese and sauce. _'At LEAST 650 calories.'_ Then Reid was given a bowl of Mexican rice. _'That looks a little more than a cup, so around 200 calories.'_ Reid nearly panicked when he received the final part of his meal: a large order of Frozen Mocha Coffee Coolatta._ 'WHAT?! THIS ISN'T EVEN A MEXICAN DRINK! I don't even want to THINK of how many calories are in THAT. Over 800, I'm sure!'_

As everyone ravenously began to consume their food, Reid stared at the meal before him. _'No. I can't do it. I can't eat this. It's too much. Over 1,600 calories in one meal. '_ He looked at the enchiladas then at the rice and finally the coffee. That coffee. Never in his life did he think he would come to hate coffee as much as he did now. But then again, never before in his life had he realized just how much uglier he was making himself every time he swallowed the fattening, sugar-filled drink. He shivered at the memory of how much he used to drink it. He mentally thanked J.J. for making him see what he was. He could always count on her. Even though he became disheartened when she started dating Will._ 'It's for the best. There's no way someone so beautiful would settle for a hideous thing like me. And yet, she was still nice enough to go to that football game with me. I could never be as amazing as her. I could never—'_

"Hey, Reid." His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Morgan call his name. He looked at the agent who, for some reason he couldn't comprehend, always looked out for him. "You okay?" Reid blinked. "You haven't eaten so much as a bite."

Reid looked back at his food. "Um, yeah…I'm fine. I'm just not hungry." He looked up to see Hotch staring at him, and he tried to suppress a shiver as he turned back to Morgan.

"Come on, man. You've gotta be a _little_ hungry." Reid swallowed hard. "How do expect to build up any muscle if you don't eat?"

Reid opened his mouth but then shut it as he realized something._ 'He's right. Being skinny isn't the same as being fit. He's trying to help me. He's telling me that if I want to be attractive I need to lose weight WITHOUT completely giving up protein. That's it, then. I'll keep improving but I'll get protein supplements—maybe whey protein pills—to build muscle. Perfect!'_

Reid smiled softly. "You're right! Thanks, Morgan."

Morgan smiled back. "No problem, Kid."

Reid looked back at the food, his smile fading. Even though his food held protein, it wasn't worth the calorie intake. He looked up to see Hotch still occasionally looking at him. He knew Hotch wouldn't leave him alone until he ate something. There was no way out of this. Reid sighed in frustration, feeling trapped and helpless. He opened the container of Mexican rice and slowly lifted up a spoon.

_'1,600 calories. That's only slightly less than what my recommended daily value is. I didn't eat anything this morning. And I won't eat anything tonight. 1,600 calories. I can burn it all by jogging approximately four hours. I could jog home after work, rather than take the train. That should burn around half the calories. Then I'll jog around my neighborhood until I've burned the rest.'_ He hesitantly raised a spoonful of rice to his lips._ 'Or…I could get rid of it all at once. No, no! I can't risk doing that at work. If anyone caught me, they would know just how pathetic I am.'_ He emptied the spoon into his mouth and slowly started to chew._ 'I'll jog home. Then I'll get rid of what's left.'_ Reid swallowed, instantly feeling fatter as he did so. He looked up at Hotch again, who seemed content with his actions and had gone back to enjoying his own meal as the rest of the team started a conversation about the budget cuts. No one knew about the internal war that was going on inside Reid with every bite he was forced to take. Nobody could hear his cries as he choked down every scream within himself with a sip of liquid fat.

He was halfway through his meal when he could no longer eat anymore. He felt bloated. He felt sick. He felt fat—_extremely_ fat. He tried to bear it but after a few minutes, it became too much. He needed to get rid of it _now_.

Reid abruptly stood up, looking and feeling ill. Everyone gave him worried glances as he quietly said "excuse me" and rushed out of the room. He all but ran for the restroom, trying not to attract too much attention but also trying to get there as soon as possible. He couldn't wait another _second_; it _had_ to be now. He dashed into a stall and slammed the door, not bothering to lock it. Reid immediately poked a finger down his throat and spent the next few minutes retching violently until he was sure it was all out of his body. He then shakily stood and flushed, glad to thinner again.

'**But not thin enough.'**

He paused when he realized it wasn't his own thoughts that said it. '_Oh, no…am I hearing voices?'_ He had a brief moment of panic before reasoning that it was likely his conscience telling him the truth about himself. He was _not_ crazy.

He opened the stall door but was startled to find Morgan standing there with a worried look on his face. '_DAMN IT! I knew I should have been more careful!' _he thought.

'**Pathetic!' **he heard his "conscience" whisper.

"Reid…? Are you all right?" Concern was evident in Morgan's voice but the younger agent only heard disgust.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine." Morgan gave him a disbelieving look and he swallowed anxiously. "I, um…My body doesn't react well to certain foods…and…whenever I eat anything too spicy…it tends to come back up." He gave nervous false-chuckle. "I didn't think the enchiladas would be too bad. It's my fault. I should have warned Garcia and J.J. about this before they ordered for me." He swallowed again. "I'll be fine once my stomach settles."

Morgan continued looking at Reid for a moment. It was when Reid thought he could no longer maintain eye-contact that Morgan finally nodded and said, "Well, then, you should be more careful about what you eat, man."

Reid offered a small smile and muttered, "I'm trying to", as he made his way to the sinks. As he rinsed out his mouth, he thought of how close he'd come to being caught. He needed to be more careful. He couldn't have more of Hotch watching him eat or Morgan questioning him in the bathroom. He promised himself he would try harder without raising unwanted attention.

As everyone finished their lunches and returned to work, Morgan cornered Hotch.

"I think there's something wrong with Reid," he said simply as they watched the sickly-looking agent shuffle through paperwork at his desk.

"I know." The two shared a serious look before Hotch told Morgan to come to his office and tell him everything.

**A/N:**** Phew! This chapter took longer than I expected to write, but I had to keep doing research on things Reid would probably know. Anyway, I hope this chapter went well and pleased everyone. You all know what to do now for the next chapter. I bet you all have some really great ideas! And I'm sorry if I'm not able to fit them all into the story, but I'll do my best.**

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**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Guest: **I hope Morgan finding him in the bathroom is good enough. I don't want him to be caught just yet.

**Love Of Blood: **Thanks! Although, I really am no expert on eating disorders (maybe more like someone who seems like an expert because I know a tiny bit more than the average person). So I am sincerely sorry if I'm not the most accurate. If I do get something blatantly wrong, feel free to correct me and I'll try to fix it.

**Jeid Spoby Delena: **Well, on a team of profilers, someone is bound to notice something. At the very least, Hotch and Morgan certainly have. And I'm not a romance writer, so there won't be any major shipping in this story. But I do hope you caught the bit about Reid being upset when J.J. started dating Will. I think I'll make it seem like Reid has (or used to have, I'm not sure yet) a crush on J.J. rather than writing a full love affair.

**CM44:** I wasn't sure what kind of "moment" you wanted, but I hope the one at the beginning was enough to quench you thirst.

**sandra. johanssan .144:** Sorry, I actually didn't check my mail for reviews again until I was finished with this chapter (which took about THREE HOURS!). Otherwise, I would have found a way to incorporate your idea about Reid fainting into this chapter. But I'll definitely make sure to make that happen later on in the chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N****: I'm not sure if anyone has noticed, but I added something else in the list of trigger warnings. After reading the chapter, tell me if you think it would be good to incorporate that later on in the story or if I should leave that out of this story. I mean, there is such thing as too ****_much_**** angst, isn't there?**

Chapter 3

Spencer Reid picked up his bag and stepped off the train. As he walked in the direction of his apartment building, he thought about the day he'd just had at work. Morgan nearly caught him. How could he be so stupid as to let that happen? And now Hotch _and_ Morgan are keeping an eye on him.

**'Moron.'**

_'I need to be more careful.'_

He shuffled along the sidewalk, feeling utterly disappointed with himself.

**'And you're supposed to be a ****_genius_****?'**

He watched as each crack appeared and disappeared beneath him, not daring to stop for a moment.

**'****_Geniuses _****don't get caught.'**

He walked passed people, chatting on their phones or calling out for him to pay attention, but he never dared to look up. _'Just keep going'_ he told himself.

**'****_Geniuses_**** don't ****_need_**** to vomit.'**

He passed a prostitute who tried to flirt with him, but he didn't say a single word_. 'Just keep going. Don't stop. Don't stop for anything. Keep going.'_

**'And do you know****_ WHY_****?'**

Suddenly, a familiar cat leapt out and hissed at him before running away. He looked up and saw his apartment building.

**'For ****_one. Simple. Reason_****.'**

He slowly ascended the stairs to his individual apartment, shakily taking out his keys. _'Keep going. Just keep going' _he thought to himself as he put the key into the lock.

**'Because ****_geniuses_**** are too ****_smart_**** to let themselves become as FAT and UGLY as ****_YOU_****!'**

He opened the door and stood there for a moment. He sighed. "I know." He gently closed the door behind him, nodding slightly. "I know."

Reid dropped his bag to the floor as he felt him eyes begin to sting. _'No. I can't cry. What good will crying do? There's no point in crying.'_ He quickly wiped his eyes and headed for the kitchen. There, he went to the sink and washed his face repeatedly until he was sure he wouldn't cry anymore.

**_'Pathetic.'_**

"Yeah," he whispered. He turned to lean against the sink when he spotted something on his table: a bright pink box. "Oh, right. I forgot to throw that away."

Four days ago, on Friday, Garcia had given Reid a box full of various muffins, convinced that he had stopped eating breakfast. She told him there was now no excuse for why he wouldn't be able to eat breakfast over the weekend.

_"Honey, you know I love you, but I cannot stand by and watch you get any skinnier." She held up a hand to stop any protests before they could start. "Now, you are going to go home, and when morning comes, you are going to have a nice, full breakfast, complete with a muffin. Or two. Or…twenty." She then smiled at him and practically shoved the box into his hands before scurrying off._

Reid sighed as he walked over and picked up the box. He hadn't even thought about it once during the weekend.

_'Great. Now even Garcia is worried about me. She probably doesn't want me to waste my time trying to become more attractive. This is her kind way of telling me I should give up.' _He opened the lid of the box and quickly counted 18 muffins. He swallowed. _'Maybe I should. There's no way I could ever be like them.'_

**'Sure. Give up. Prove just how pathetic and weak you are.'**

"Shut up," Reid murmured.

**'Go ahead and eat up. Like the ****_fat_**** little piggy you are.'**

"I said shut up!" He felt tears build in his eyes again. _'No. I don't _want_ to cry anymore.'_

**'Useless. Pathetic. Weak. Loser.'**

Reid shut his eyes and clenched his teeth. _'I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry anymore!'_

"I'm not! I'm not! I'm _not_!" As he felt tears struggling to poke through his eyelids, he quickly snatched a muffin and stuffed half of it in his mouth.

**'Weak…'**

"Shut up…" He felt tears stream down his face, and he quickly swallowed the partially-chewed food and shoved the rest of the muffin into his mouth.

**'Disgusting…'**

He grabbed another muffin, forcing it into his mouth. He then grabbed another as he forcibly choked down the one before it. He felt his legs growing weak and slowly lowered to the floor as he continued scarfing down the baked goods. As he sat, leaning against the table, stuffing his mouth over and over again, trying to contain his stubborn tears, he thought back on what began all of this.

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It was roughly two months ago. During the holiday season. Everyone was having parties and family dinners. The BAU had a party a few days before Christmas. Then the team gathered at Rossi's mansion on Christmas Eve for another party, full of foods made by the Italian himself. On Christmas Day, Reid went to visit his mother, where they had a Christmas dinner for the patients. Two days later, Morgan and Garcia had convinced him to come with them to another party, knowing Reid had no one else to be around during the holidays, apart from his mother. On New Year's Eve, the team got together again for another celebration, followed by Reid going to another party on New Year's Day.

When Reid returned to work after the holiday season was over, he felt refreshed, as he did every year. He had done things he only ever did once a year—including eating various foods that were only around during that time of year. He stood in the "kitchen" area, filling his sugar with a bit of warm coffee. He looked up when J.J. had entered.

"Hey, Spence." She gave him a warm smile as he handed her the coffee pot.

"Good morning, and Happy New Year!" He stirred the sugar, trying to evenly spread the coffee.

"Happy New Year to you, too." She put the pot down and looked at Reid humorously. "Looks like you ate pretty well over the holidays."

Reid had a questioning look on his face. "What do you mean?"

J.J. took a sip of her coffee and made a slight face of disapproval. "Well, you've gain weight."

"I…have?"

"Yeah…" She walked over to the sink to pour out her drink. She'd forgotten just how bad BAU coffee was. "But just a little bit."

Reid looked down at himself, critically. "…Oh…"

J.J. placed her mug in the sink and walked passed Reid toward the doorway. She stopped when she noticed he was still staring at his stomach. "Hey, Spence?"

He looked up at her. "Huh?"

"Don't worry about it, all right? With you being you, I'm sure you'll be back to normal in hardly any time at all." Reid looked back down at his stomach. "Besides, you really didn't put on _that_ much. It actually wouldn't be so bad if you kept it." And with a friendly smile and a wink, J.J. left for her office, leaving Reid alone with his misunderstanding thoughts.

_'She said I didn't put on that much. But she _did_ notice that I gained weight. And she said it wouldn't be bad if I kept the added weight. So does that mean…I was already fat? Of course. If I were already fat, what difference would it make if I gained a few more pounds?'_ He tried to suck in his stomach, but he could still see it poking out_. 'I __**am**__ fat. Have I _always_ been fat? Has everyone noticed? Do they all see it? Why couldn't I see before? Why have I never done anything to get _rid_ of it? I should get rid of it. I'm an __**FBI agent**__. I can't be fat. I need to be thin and fit and ready…like _Morgan_. He probably doesn't have an ounce of fat on him. But me…I'm…I'm…_**DISGUSTING**_.'_

"Hey, Reid." Prentiss greeted as she reached for her coffee mug. Reid somewhat muttered a "hey" back at her. "So…" she said as she started to pour some cream into her drink. "Has the genius made any resolutions? Or do you have some over-complicated explanation as to why there's no point in making resolutions?" She took a sip, feeling slightly amused as she bet with herself on the latter.

Reid turned to look at her. There was something in his eyes at that moment that Prentiss couldn't quite place. It was something she had never seen in Reid before. "Oh," he said, his voice slightly deep and quiet. "I have a resolution." He turned way and rubbed his stomach. "Starting now." He then walked out of the room, leaving a confused and slightly concerned Emily Prentiss in his wake.

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Reid reached into the box again, only to feel cardboard. He looked and felt waves of frustration wash over him when he realized the box was now empty. _'Damn it'_. He threw the box halfway across the kitchen and curled into a ball, his legs to his chest and his arms holding each other. He rocked slightly, trying to fend off the tears. _'I want more to eat.'_

**'You're a disgrace.'**

He buried his head in his arms. _'But I'm not supposed to eat.'_

**'Absolutely ****_pitiful_****.'**

He clenched his arms. _'I can't tell if I'm hungry or not.'_

**'Just PUTRID.'**

He clenched harder and harder, digging his nail through the fabric of his shirt and into his flesh. _'I just want to eat, but I _don't _want to eat.'_

**_'Foul. Stupid.'_**

He continued clenching harder and harder. _'I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do.'_

**_'Worthless.'_**

He ignored the feeling of something filling his nails. _'Someone…please…help me…I don't…I just don't know anymore…please…'_

**_'Hopeless.'_**

"Stop it, _please_!" And then, everything was silent. Reid felt himself shaking and there was a pain in his arms. He released his arms and saw the blood in his fingernails. He looked at his right arm, watching as blood hesitantly seeped out. Seeing it slowly come out of his flesh calmed him in an unsettling way. And then, all too soon, the blood stopped, and he no longer had a distraction. He could sense the thoughts coming back, lurking at the edges of his mind.

Reid unsteadily stood up and immediately felt ill. _'I ate too much. No, no, no. What did I just __**DO**__?!'_

**'You're so ****_pathetic_**** and ****_weak_****. Are you ****_really_**** about to throw away all the progress you've been making because of some ****_muffins_****?'**

_'No…no. I _have_ been making progress. Even _Hotch_ said so. I can't go back now. Not until I'm fit enough. Not until I've gotten rid of all the fat.'_

**'So what are you going to do now, ****_Doctor Reid_****?'**

"I…I have to get rid of it. All of it. **_Now_**." Reid slowly walked out of the kitchen and into his bathroom, locking the door behind him as the sound of painful retching filled his apartment.

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**A/N:**** Let me know if you think I should add an element of self-harm to this story. Also, I've been uploading daily these last three chapters, but I think I'm about to slow down a bit. So, I'm sorry if the next few chapters take longer.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Love Of Blood: **Well, that was a special kind of coffee they ordered. I think perhaps they ordered that meal on purpose as a way of getting Reid to eat more calories. Otherwise, I think they would have ordered something a bit more healthy (considering that they ARE FBI agents, after all). But I did do the research for those foods and those are around the actual calorie amount in them. So yeah….that's quite a lot. Rather than no coffee at the BAU, how about nothing BUT coffee? I'm thinking of bringing on a case in the next chapter or so, so maybe the police station they're in only has coffee and that worries Reid? I think I'll have Reid pass out sometime during the case (maybe he passes out at the store while buying protein pills or something? I don't know.) NO, this will definitely NOT become a romance fic of any kind. I am sooooo NOT a romance writer. I just put an implied Reid crush on J.J., but that's not going anywhere. So rest assured, knowing there will be no "hook-ups" in this Fanfiction.

**sandra. johansson. 144: **Thank you! Thank you very much!

**Jeid Spoby Delena: **Phew! That's good because I was **not** going to turn this into a romance fic. I don't know why people forget about J.J. She's my favorite female on the team. Out of all the women, I'll be writing the most of J.J. So, you'll definitely get to see her in this fic.

**_Thanks for reviewing!_**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hmm…I wasn't expecting it to take ****_this_**** long to update…**

Chapter 4

Spencer Reid narrowed his eyes, trying his hardest to remain focused on the information. He'd been trying to read the same paper for five minutes. **Five minutes**. It should have only taken him ten seconds, _max_! He lightly shook his in disappointment.

_'Great…now I can't even work.'_ He let out a sigh. He was late this morning. He heard his alarm sound, but he was too exhausted to get up. After an hour of trying, he finally got to his feet. He had to skip his morning shower and his jog (unfortunately) in order to make the next train. He walked into work obviously drained, and, thankfully, nobody said anything. But they did like to _stare_. And now, he was reviewing paperwork at an embarrassingly slow (for him) speed. He could feel Morgan watching him, and tried to ignore him. After a moment, a series of unbearable stomach cramps overtook him and he had to admit temporary defeat.

He sighed in frustration and took a sip from his bottle of water, hoping it would ease his stomach. It didn't. Morgan leaned toward him. Reid knew a conversation was sure to follow. Damn it, that was **not** what he needed right now.

"You know, Reid, maybe you should try to get more rest. I'm sure it'd be a lot easier for you to concentrate if you did."

Reid had to suppress a growl of annoyance. "I'm focusing fine, Morgan."

Morgan gave a humorless chuckle. "Fine? Reid, you've barely made a dent in your paperwork. _I'm_ even ahead of you, which should _never_ happen." Reid looked away. Morgan lowered his voice a bit and took on a serious tone. "Look, man, there's nothing wrong with needing a break every once in a while. This job can get to us all. I know. Nobody would think any less of you if you asked Hotch for a bit of time off. It might do you some good."

Reid's eyes widened in horror. '_What does he mean by __**that**__? Does he think I can't do this job? Does he think I'm not good enough? Not smart enough? Not…not __**fit**__ enough?_ Reid slowly faced Morgan. _No…I'm…I'm doing better. I've lost weight… But not enough. Not yet. But I'm going to get there. I'm going to prove to everyone that I can be fit, too. They'll see I can do this job. And maybe…maybe they'll like me more…'_

"Thank you for your concern, Morgan," Reid spoke with caution and a forced calmness. "But I assure you that I'm fine."

""Reid, you are not '_fine'_."

"Well, I suppose that's where we disagree." Reid reached across his desk for another file, determined not to look at Morgan.

"Reid…" Morgan grabbed Reid's upper arm to stop him from taking another file.

Reid hissed at the pain and jerked his arm away. He had forgotten about the nail marks in his arms from last night. And now he couldn't help but think about what he did _before_ that. Those muffins… He was disgusted with himself. Anger fueled within him.

"Reid, please, just listen to—"

"No, Morgan, you listen!" Reid snapped suddenly, causing Morgan to pause in shock. "I told you I'm **fine**! Maybe the reason I haven't finished my work yet is because you always pile **your** work onto mine! Of course you're going to finish sooner if I'm doing your work **and** my work! Maybe if you handled your own damn responsibilities, we wouldn't have a problem!"

Morgan's face showed obvious shock, as well as the faces of Prentiss and the interns around them who pretended not to be eavesdropping. After a moment, Reid realized what he'd just done and instantly felt ashamed of himself.

Reid looked at Morgan with pleading eyes. "Morgan…" he said softly. "I'm…I'm sorry…I…" His voice trailed off as he lost the words.

Morgan's eyes held a swirl of emotions, but the only one Reid noticed was anger. "_Fine_," he said impatiently. "If you don't want to accept my help. I won't force you. But you won't be able to say I didn't _try_."

"Morgan…" The older man ignored him. Reid was swept by emotions he couldn't decipher. '**_Damn it!_**_ What is __**wrong**__ with me? He was only worried and I yelled at him. And now he hates me even __**more**__.'_ Reid felt his eyes begin to sting.

**'You're so ****_pathetic_****! You can't do anything right. You can't lose weight, you can't sleep, you can't focus, you can't do your job, and you can't be a good friend. Just ****_worthless_****.'**

Reid stood up abruptly, startling everyone around him. He ignored them as he quickly paced toward the nearest bathroom. Once inside, he made sure to lock the door this time before running into a stall. He tried to get rid of the weight, but the only thing he's had since last night's purging was water. And that was all that came up.

**'You can't even vomit properly. Pathetic…'**

Reid wiped the tears from his eyes as he forced himself up to his feet. After flushing, he walked out of the stall and stared at himself in the mirror before turning away in disgust. With an air of defeat about him, he slowly exited the bathroom and returned to his desk. Everyone noticed the change in his behavior immediately, but no one commented on it.

After a few minutes, the sound of heels could be heard walking into the bullpen. Reid ignored it as he struggled to comprehend the text in front of him. His recent purging helped clear his mind by the smallest of fractions, but it only worsened his cramps. He tried to think about facts of medications and treatments that would help him deal with them. But his mind was far too jumbled and hazy to decipher them. This wasn't good. The work day was a third of the way over and he still has only completed three files. His mind instantly returned to self-loathing thoughts—the _only_ thoughts he could hear clearly. So ugly…so useless….so…

"REID!" He snapped his head up to see a worried-looking Prentiss staring at him. He blinked, unsure of what to say. "Didn't you hear J.J.?" He blinked again. "Come on, Reid, we have a case."

He watched as Prentiss headed toward the conference room with only one thought in his mind, clearer than anything else: _Oh, no. _

* * *

**A/N: Thank you everyone for the amazing reviews!****_ Keep 'em comin'!_**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Love Of Blood:** Don't **ever** apologize for a long review. The longer the review, the more appreciated the author feels! Long reviews are fuel…sweet, delicious fuel…for the engines that are our demented—I mean…_brilliant_—minds. Talking too much is forgivable when you have valuable ideas/information to share (which is why I would NEVER get mad at Reid for his ramblings!) I really appreciate your contribution to this story! Hopefully it turns out in a way that you'll find satisfactory.

**Moroo123:** Unfortunately, people don't take these things seriously enough, ESPECIALLY when a male is doing it. People just assume that because they've never been driven to such a point, people who have are weaker or want attention or any of the countless other **ignorant** explanations that only make the problem _worse_ by not treating it as a problem.

**thementalist2:** Hmm…I've never heard of that. Maybe I'll use that. But the self-harm won't come until later; I want to ease into it.

**wilfredthepickle: **The main issue is that I'm a huge procrastinator, so I _knew_ it would be a while before I wrote this chapter. _Phew_! I appreciate you telling me this; it means I'm doing a good job. I've never written a story like this, so I was worried it wouldn't seem very realistic. And thank you for pointing that out. I have already changed it. I see your point about the capitalization and I tried not to use it so much in this chapter when it wasn't entirely necessary. But here is how I like to you emphasis:  
underlining=least amount of emphasis; when said, the word would be emphasized by putting a bit of a pause after the word. Ex: I wanted a hotdog-without-onions.  
_italics_=small amount of emphasis; when said, the word may bay be drawn out slightly with a slight rise in voice pitch and/or volume. It may also be followed but a brief pause. Ex: No, you said without _relish_-not onions.  
**bold**=accented emphasis, meaning the speaker would raise their voice at the beginning of the word and lower it at the end of the word. Ex: No, I said I wanted ***ham*burger** with no relish.  
And, finally, CAPITALIZATION=pretty much yelling. Ex: WHO PUTS RELISH ON HAMBURGERS?!  
I may use more than one type to show **_EXTRA_** emphasis.  
These rules may also change if one of the above is being used in a way that is not meant for emphasis. Ex: The menu says this: COME TRY OUR HAMBURGERS AND HOTDOGS. YOU CAN HAVE **_ANY_** TOPPINGS YOU WANT, **NO** QUESTIONS ASKED!  
Hopefully, this will help you when you read my writing. I probably should write this at the beginning of each of my stories so people will know what each one means inside my head.  
(Also, I may use *asterisks*. Umm…I don't really have a rule for this one. I just use it sometimes.)  
And I have taken your advice about separating the story and the A/N.  
Thank you for your constructive criticism; all your comments are well appreciated.

**sandra. johanssan. 144:** Don't worry; _most_ chapters won't be like that; just a few. I needed to dedicate a chapter to showing what was going on inside Reid's head and to explaining how his issue began. But there will only be a few more chapters like that. The rest will only have a few glimpses at his darker thoughts…unless you guys think it doesn't fit well with the story. As I said before, I want this to be **your** story, and I'm doing my best to make you all at least a little happy.

**Reidergurl:** WOW. Thank you _SO_ much for all the information you provided. It really helps and it's nice to know I'm getting my information from someone who knows what she is talking about. I will definitely be using a few of these ideas in the future. Your review has opened the door for so many more possibilities. This story was originally going to be a few chapters, but now I KNOW it's going to be a long one. The only problem is…long story=more procrastination. And I really hate to make you guys wait when you've been so awesome about reviewing and making suggestions. And sorry to hear about what I imagine was a very traumatizing yet eye-opening experience.

**hastingsftw:** I'm glad you thought so. With Reid being a genius, I wasn't sure how to really capture him. So I just focused on his insecure/self-conscious side instead. Apparently, it worked out well. :D

**JustSmileAndBeHappy:** Thank you! J The main interactions will be Reid/Morgan, Reid/J.J., and Reid/Hotch. I do like the others, but Rossi and Garcia don't get much interaction with Reid in the show, so I'm not sure about how to write them. As for Prentiss…well, Prentiss isn't my favorite character (but that's not to say she's my least favorite character! That honor goes to…(drumroll)…_Jason Gideon_! :P)

**MW3addict:** Many thanks, and I'll try.

**GuiltyPleasure:** Thank you, and I hope this was "near future" enough for you.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N****: The next few chapters are going to be a little fun (for me, at least. I can't say the same for Spencer, though…). ****_*maniacal grin*_**

Chapter 5

This wasn't good. They hadn't had a case in weeks, but _now_ of all times is when some killer decides to come out to play? Reid was not a superstitious or _particularly_ paranoid person (when _healthy_, that is), but he was tempted to believe that the universe hated him even more than he hated himself. He can't handle a case, not now. Not when he was having this much trouble focusing on regular paperwork. Not when he still had his daily routine he needed to follow in order to lose '_x'_ amount of kilograms each day (the number changed so frequently, Reid had to use a _variable_, rather than an actual _number_). No, not when he still has work to do. What would happen if he had to chase the UnSub? There's no way Reid would be able to catch him (or her…or did the team already rule that out? Why couldn't he _remember_?) when he was still in such a pitiful state. He wasn't ready yet. But, then again, it was his job to be ready to leave at any time. He _always_ has to be ready. Serial killers aren't going to wait until he's ready and neither should he.

Reid turned his head to look out the plane window as he tried desperately to stifle a yawn. He failed—horribly—which only set forth another stream of self-deprecating thoughts. He watched the clouds, with a conflicting mind—one part trying to calculate the current wind speed based on the rate of the clouds versus the rate of the plane, one part completely incapable of producing any information at all, and a third part that begged helplessly for rest. As he watched the clouds, he felt his eyes slowly grow narrower and narrower…

NO! He had to stay awake. He had to be at his best for this case. '_This case…'_ He took a deep breath and tried to remember everything he could about what the team had said in the conference room and during the first part of the flight.

He leaned back in his seat and only then noticed how badly his leg was shaking. He realized that it wasn't just his leg; his entire body was trembling. He tried to control himself, which did little to help. _'Iron deficiency…'_ he thought absent-mindedly_. 'I'll have to remember to find supplements for iron.'_ He zipped his jacket to its highest point. It isn't usually this cold on the flight. Is the heating not working? Why doesn't anyone else seem bothered by it?

_'No, focus! I need to think about the case. I need to find a way to be more useful. I need to remember… This case…is in Nebraska. What city? It's…along the state border…I…think. What was said during the debriefing? Over the course of five weeks, there have been twelve victims. Cause of death? Drowning. No, no… Strangulation.'_ Reid was too busy focusing on the details of the case to notice he had shut his eyes_. 'All the victims were female, blonde, between the ages of 21 and 34. This definitely rules out the possibility of a female UnSub. The UnSub most likely receives sexual satisfaction from the strangulation. He likes to feel dominant, in control. Perhaps he had a blonde girlfriend or wife who took that power away from him. The UnSub is probably using these women as a way to fulfill his fantasy of overpowering the one who took away his control. Eventually, these women won't be enough. He will have to go after the object of his obsession. When that happens…..'_

All of his thoughts were stopped as he fell into an unexpected slumber.

His co-workers watched him cautiously but critically. Even in his sleep, he still showed obvious signs of stress and anxiety. Everyone noticed the way his frail body shook, how pale he was, how…_skinny_. It made them worry, it made a few _nearly_ tear up, and—as in Derek's case—it was even infuriating. The sight was too much for any of them to look at, but none was able to look elsewhere.

J.J. moved from her seat near Reid to come closer to the team. She looked back at Reid once more to be sure he was asleep before whispering to the rest of the team "So…what do _you_ guys think is going on with Reid?"

* * *

**A/N:**** Sorry this chapter is a little short, but I didn't want to add the next chapter to it; I wanted that to be its own chapter. But, lucky for you, I decided to upload both chapters at the same time. This story is about to get interesting and there will be more team involvement in the next few chapters.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**M3Waddict**: It's funny you say that, because immediately after I posted the chapter, I wondered the same thing. :D Great minds? I think so.

**gardenflower**: hey, I just wanted to thank you for the review. Stay tuned!

**aspiegiraffe**: As I look at your username, I go "wait, isn't that…?" I really like your story Not Okay ; I originally read it on _AO3_(anyone else reading this should check it out). I know this may seem a bit hypocritical of me, but…are you planning on updating soon? And I'm a little flattered you like my story since so much inspiration for it is due to stories like yours. It's stories like yours that got me hooked on this kind of fanfiction. And because of this addiction, I decided to write my own when I had read them all. There really isn't enough of these type fanfiction (self-harm, eating disorders, _etc_), so I wanted to help people like me who crave them by giving them another story to feed on. I'm also hoping that it will inspire other readers to write more. (It's no fun reading my own story.)  
Okay, I digress. About Reid and Morgan sharing a room: I hadn't originally thought about that. At first, Reid was going to have a room to himself. But, yes, I can put them in a room together (especially since _you_ asked). Though, don't count on any slash (but if used your imagination, I'm sure you could find it).

**Couragexoxo**: LOL! Why do I suddenly feel like I got caught doing something I'm not supposed to? Wow, no reviewer has ever _scolded_ me before. It's funny; when you left that reviewed, I had JUST finished this chapter. I actually considered uploading it right away because of your review, but I forced myself not to so I could upload both chapters at once.  
(Seriously, when I look at your review, I'm not sure whether to laugh or hide somewhere).


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:**** Reid isn't in this chapter much. It's mostly what the team thinks of Reid unusual behavior.**

Chapter 6:

The team exchanged glances for a moment before Morgan let out a loud sigh and ran his hand down his face.

"I don't know," he said, lightly shaking his head.

"Well, there's obviously _something_ going on with the kid." Rossi stated.

There was a moment of silence before Prentiss bit her lip and voiced what she knew everyone else didn't want to ask. "You don't think he's…"

Everyone looked at her, and she knew she didn't have to finish her sentence for them to know _exactly_ what she was asking. They all had the same look on their face, except Rossi who looked at each person in confusion.

"Think he's what?" The team looked at him and he knew there was something he didn't know. "What is it?"

"Maybe it isn't that." J.J. offered in an unconvincing manner.

"What else could it be, J?" Prentiss gave her a sympathetic.

"I don't know. Maybe he's just stressed or there could be something going on with his mother. Do we need to automatically assume _it_?"

"Assume **what**?!" The impatience was evident in Rossi's voice. "You keep saying '_that'_ and '_it'_. What the hell are you talking about?"

The team exchanged glances again.

"Rossi…" Morgan sighed again and there was another moment of silence.

"Dave…" Hotch felt like he was betraying Reid, but Rossi needed to know. Besides, Rossi was part of the family now, so it would be okay to tell him, wouldn't it?

"What is it, Aaron? Tell me."

Hotch ignored his other team members and focused solely on Rossi. "You know about the case we had involving Tobias Hankel? In which Reid was abducted?" Everyone else closed their eyes in memory of that event.

"Yeah…" Rossi said cautiously. "What about it?"

"In the official report, it is stated that Reid was held for two days. During that time, Reid had been abused and drugged… …But there's something that wasn't included in the report."

Rossi sat up a bit straighter, suddenly feeling a bit regretful for prying. This was obviously a secret they ever talked about, not even with each other. Sometimes Rossi forgets that they were a family _long_ before he came around. They've been through things he would never understand. The only things he knows about the team before he joined are what he has read in the official reports and the little information the team has shared with him. But if this is something that _wasn't_ in the reports, who knows what _else_ could have happened on that case? He gulped, not sure if he wanted to know but also knowing he _needed_ to know.

Hotch sighed, suddenly looking very old. "Reid…developed a drug addiction."

Rossi blinked. Surely, Hotch was kidding. There's no possible way that _Spencer Reid_, kid genius, would allow himself to become a_ drug addict_.

"It wasn't his fault." Hotch said, seemingly reading his co-worker's thoughts. "As was stated in the report, Reid was forced to take drugs. At some point during his captivity, he must have unwillingly begun to crave them. After the case, he was in a vulnerable position. He was damaged and traumatized." Hotch sighed again as a look of regret and self-criticism spread across his face, as well as the faces of the others profilers. "We knew he was taking drugs. But we never talked about it; we didn't confront him; we didn't do _anything_ to help him. We just let him suffer on his own. In the end, he beat his addiction, by himself, without any help. But he was never the same after that case."

Rossi sat quietly in thought. He had seen pictures of Reid in his early years at the BAU. He was so young, so nerdy, so unconfident. He was still much of the same person, but he was different. You didn't have to know him to know he'd changed. Just by looking at the pictures of him then and him now, even a non-profiler would know Reid had been through an unimaginable trauma. But Rossi never knew what that trauma was, until now. Even so, he got the feeling that this is only _one_ life-changing event Reid went through in his early years. The kid was a knack for trouble, even now.

"So…you think he's on drugs again?" The team was quiet for a long moment.

"If he is using again," Hotch said, looking at his team. "We are NOT going to make the same mistake we made last time. We're not just going to sit back and let him deal with it on his own." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"But we're not even sure he **is** using." All the profilers turned to J.J. "I mean, what evidence is there to prove, without _any_ doubt, that he is?"

Silence.

"J.J…" Prentiss spoke softly. "Just look at him. Even when he's asleep, he can't stay still."

"And he's been moody, agitated, depressed, hot-tempered." Morgan added.

"Not to mention he's lost weight. Too much weight." Hotch looked critically at the slim figure.

"I've noticed he hasn't been rambling off facts like he usually does." Rossi was still having trouble believing this, but it was beginning to make a lot of sense.

"He was having trouble focusing on his paperwork." Morgan shook his head.

"He went into the bathroom and when he came out, he seemed more relaxed." Prentiss commented.

"And I saw him throwing up the other day when we all had lunch together. Also, he winced when I touched his arm."

"J.J., I'm sorry," Prentiss put a hand on her shoulder. "But all of these are signs that he's using. I've watched the same thing happen to a friend of mine before and I was there when this happened to Reid the first time. We can't deny it any longer. He needs our help."

J.J. nodded sadly. "So what do we do?"

Hotch held back another sigh. "We're going to have to wait until we get back to Quantico. If he becomes trouble, I'll take him off the case."

Rossi looked at him. "But we can't have him high while working the case. It could ruin everything."

"We'll make sure he's with someone at all times, so he won't have the chance to shoot up."

"I'll room with him." Morgan said with an air of finality.

"Good. Make sure to keep an eye on him."

Morgan gave a half-nod.

"Don't worry, J.J." Prentiss gave a small false smile while wrapping her arm around the blonde. "We'll help him." J.J placed her hand on Prentiss' and softly nodded.

The team sat without a word for the rest of the flight. The only sounds that could be heard were the noises of the plane and the soft snores of Spencer Reid.


	7. Chapter 7

**For anyone who actually cares why I haven't updated, read the A/N at the bottom. Otherwise, enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 7

Reid walked off the plane, feeling drowsy and rather agitated. His stomach hurt. A LOT. But he tried to ignore it as he grumpily trudged by his co-workers into one of the SUVs. The team exchanged glances before splitting up and entering their respective vehicles.

Rossi was on his way to the morgue to examine the bodies of Melissa Moore, Kathy Wright, and Juliana Thames. Morgan and Prentiss were going to examine the most recent crime scene. J.J., Hotch, and Reid were headed to the police station. _'__Most likely because Hotch thinks I'd be useless out on the field,'_ Reid thought bitterly.

Reid silently sulked in the backseat on the way to the station. The day carried on slowly. There weren't any leads and the team was unable to add anything new to their profile. Reid had been able to keep his moodiness to a minimal (as possible) for the majority of the day. It was during a late lunch that things went downhill.

The team (excluding Reid, who stayed in the station—Hotch's orders) had talked to the families of four victims and had returned empty-handed. The families didn't know of any recent boyfriends or new friends or possible threats. It was when Prentiss declared "I'm starving" that Hotch decided it would be a good time to give his team a break. Reid was offered to dine with them, and, naturally and expectedly, he declined. His excuse was "I want to work more on the geographic profile in case I missed something". Even the officers knew this was a blatant lie, seeing as how Reid had been upset the _entire_ day for being allowed to do nothing more than review files and work the geographic profile.

Reid migrated to what was even worse than the BAU's excuse for a kitchen. He searched everywhere and only growled in frustration upon not finding what he wanted. An officer walked in and noticed this.

"You looking for something?"

It took every bit of willpower in Reid's body in order for him to hide his annoyance. "Yes. I am looking for a bottle of water. Is there any here?"

"Bottled water? I think we ran out just yesterday. Yeah, Wiser was supposed to buy more, but I guess he never got around to it." Reid sighed before he realized he was about to. "You know…if you're thirsty, you can always have some coffee." The officer pointed to the pot of coffee on the counter. Reid barely suppressed a cringe. "I know it isn't the best stuff in the world, but it—"

"I'm fine," Reid nearly snapped. "But thank you for the offer." He left the room in haste and returned to where the team had set up. He searched through his handbag, expecting to find what he needed, but was shocked when it was not there. He forgot to pack bottled water. _Damn_. He was getting sloppy.

He sighed. True, he could drink tap water, but there were risks with that. In the end, he saw that it was his only option. He didn't have any bottled water and he was confident Hotch wouldn't let him leave to buy some. The only other drinks in the station were coffee and soda from a machine downstairs.

With an air of reluctance, Reid walked back into the "kitchen". He was momentarily pleased to see that the officer from before had gone, but that was soon replaced upon seeing Emily Prentiss filling a coffee mug. Reid offered her a small friendly smile as he walked passed her to get a glass. He pretended to not notice her eyeing him with suspicion as he filled the glass with cool tap water.

"You know, Reid," He tried not to cringe upon hearing her speak. "There's some coffee over here. And it's only slightly worse than what we have back at Quantico."

"I'm fine." He took a sip and tried to ignore the pain in his stomach.

"Since when do _you_ turn down coffee?" Reid ignored her as he took another sip. "I can remember when you could down a gallon a day and still want more sugar."

"I'm...trying to cut back. Is that so wrong?" Reid stared into the glass, not wanting to meet Prentiss's eyes.

"No…but do you think you could cut back on the cutting back?"

Reid's brows furrowed in confusion. _''__Cut back on the cutting back'? What does she mean by that? I thought they would be happy I'm losing weight.'_ Reid looked at his co-worker in search of answers.

"What I mean is…you don't need to push yourself so hard, Reid. No one expects you to be everything, so it's okay if you're not. Just be you, the real you. That's all any of us want or need of you. _You_ are more than enough."

Reid couldn't help the looks of shock and confusion that overcame his face. _'I don't understand. What does she mean by that? I don't…'_

"Oh," Prentiss said, looking at a clock on the wall. "I think the food we ordered should be here soon. Better get back." She threw away her empty sugar packet and was about to leave before pausing to look back at Reid, who remained in the same position. "You know, Reid…" He looked up suddenly, as if coming out of a daze. "You really should reconsider having lunch with us. We'd all love it if you ate with us."

Reid swallowed, unsure of himself. Had Prentiss offered ten minutes ago, he would have readily said "no", as he had done before. But he was confused and in doubt. _'__I still don't understand… What did she mean? I can't stop. I'm not finished yet. I still have work to do, so why would she say that?'_

Reid swallowed again as he attempted to steady himself enough to form proper words. "N-no, I can't. I…" He swallowed once more to gain confidence. "I still have a lot of work to do, Emily, and I can't get distracted. Not until it's finished."

Prentiss suppressed a sigh. "All right. Well, we're all here for you if you ever need anything."

And with that, Reid was let alone, still struggling to decipher what Prentiss had said.

* * *

**A/N****: Okay, I actually started this chapter a month ago. Honest. But then something went wrong with my laptop. It started taking FOREVER just to log on. I mean an HOUR just to turn on, load, and log on. And anything from that point on took even ****_longer_****. I'm sure it's a virus or something. In fact, I'm currently at the library listening to this little boy say "MOMMY! Come here! Mommy!" while the mother keeps saying (with annoyance) "No! Spencer, stop it! No, why don't you come HERE? You don't need to shout. If you don't behave we're going to leave. Do you want to leave?" And to the right of me is a little girl playing games on nick. com and not caring to lower the volume (and I'm way too nice to ask her). I've been trying all month to write, but it's a little hard to do so in a public place that can be rather noisy at times and that contains an abundance of people who like to watch everything you are doing on the computer until you stare back at them and they finally get the message. Ok…I've gone on a tangent…  
Basically, I will still be updating, just not as frequently.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Couragexoxo:** Ok… Somehow you made me go from feeling like a child who was being scolded to feeling like a pet who finally learned a trick. Hmm…not entirely sure how should feel about that. Also, "you really do not have any option". Umm…was that a _threat_?  
(_Dies of laughter_).

**sandra. johansson. 144: **The angry conversation about his suspected "using" is definitely happening. It would be cruel of me to write that chapter and NOT include a follow-up argument—I mean nice, friendly discussion. :D

**MW3addict: **Thank you. I anticipate a few more chapters throughout the story that are focused more around the team than Reid.

**gardenflower:** Hmm…well, this chapter did not go as planned, but it's not entirely my fault. I'm having a bit of trouble focusing for the reasons I mentioned in the A/N. I just hope this chapter was worth the wait.

**ReidGurl: **I was originally thinking of having Hotch do the confrontation, but you're right, it would be much more interesting with Rossi. But he won't be finding out the truth…not yet, at least. There's a lot of great ideas I want to incorporate into this story, and as a result, this is going to be MUCH longer than I originally anticipated. I suppose that is good in that it allows for a full story, but it also means waiting a long time for the conclusion. Whenever I write a long story, I also run the risk o becoming slightly bored with it half-way through and possibly forgetting (or just losing the motivation) to write for it. But we'll see how it all goes.  
I don't know if you could tell, but I kept trying very hard to incorporate your coffee idea into this chapter. But every time I tried, the story took a new turn. The next chapter I'm going to try to do what I failed to do in this chapter.

**ICanBeFunnySometimes: **Thank you for the review and the suggestion. All right, since I already promised ReidGurl I'd have Rossi confront Reid, it seems I'll have two different confrontation scenes. How fun. Well…maybe not for the characters, but, oh, well. About the counselor…so, _so_ many ideas for that. I already have one thing I'm going to do in a few more chapters (but I won't spoil it). Maybe I could do a follow-up story if Reid gets better at the end of this. Yes, I did say "**_IF_** Reid gets better". I make no promise that he will or that he won't. You'll just have to wait to find out. (Yes, I AM aware of how cruel I am and I am smirking wickedly at the thought of it).


	8. Chapter 8

**The library is close to quiet today and I'm bored right now so I figured, "Hm, might as well write, I suppose".**

Chapter 8

"Cut back. Why?" Reid whispered to himself as he stared blankly at the mp on the board. "Do they want me to be fat? I do make them look better in comparison. Is that it? This doesn't make sense." He clenched his fists in frustration. "It doesn't make sense. Damn it, none of this makes any sense!"

"What doesn't make sense?"

Reid jerked around to see David Rossi entering the room. "Oh, uh, n-nothing, it's just…" he motioned at the map. "The geographic profile. I'm having trouble figuring it out." He fiddled with a red thumb tack pinned at the most recent crime scene, hoping Rossi would believe him and go away.

"Yeah…this case is a tricky one." Reid felt a hand on his shoulder. "But we'll get there. We always do. So long as we've all got our heads in the game. Got it, kid?"

Reid narrowed his eyes at him. "Yeah, I got it."

"Good," Rossi patted the shoulder once before releasing it. "Because we need that profile," he said, pointing at the map. "Which means you have to be here 100%"

"Yes, I know that, Rossi," Reid said with growing annoyance. "I've been putting all of my effort into this profile, like the rest of you have been. It's not **my** fault that nothing is adding up."

"Whoa, take it easy. I was just making sure you're in the right mind-set and you're focusing on the job. There's no need to get defensive, kid."

"Well, I assure you, Rossi, that I **am** in the correct mind-set. Why do you think I wouldn't be? Do you think I would not take this seriously? Twelve women are **dead**. I'm not going to play around as if that doesn't matter."

"All right, calm down, kid—"

"**QUIT CALLING ME THAT!** I am **not** a child! I am an adult male who is fully capable of taking care of himself!"

"Oh, I wouldn't be sure about that."

Reid's eyes narrowed again. "What do you mean by that?"

"I think you know." Rossi fixed his gaze on Reid, neither willing to blink first.

"No, I do not know. If you could enlighten me…?"

A moment passed between the two, during which neither looked away nor blinked. Finally, Rossi broke the silence, though still not blinking.

"I know you're using."

At Rossi's simple bluntness, Reid couldn't resist blinking. "W-_what_?"

"You heard me."

_'__Rossi…thinks I'm using? Why would he…?'_

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't play dumb, Reid. It's **obvious**." Reid blinked again. "The way you've been acting, it's weird even for you. Not to mention you're thin enough to fit through a _crack_. Changes like that don't just happen. Not unless there's another factor involved. And I _know_ you have a history of drug abuse."

Reid stood there for a moment in a mix of shock and fury. Suddenly, a wave of rage surged through him before he had the chance to control it.

"**You don't know what the hell you're talking about!**"

"Excuse m—"

**"****You need to address the ****_facts_**** before you begin to make assumptions about other people!"**

"Oh, I've looked at the facts! The **fact** is that you need help."

"**No, the ****_fact_**** is that you're not as great a profiler as you may ****_think_**** you are! I am not using! I do ****_not_**** need ****_drugs_**** to lose weight! I can do that perfectly well on my own!"**

"What are you talking about? This isn't just about your weight."

"Oh, yeah, I _know_ there are a billion things wrong with me, especially in comparison with the rest of you. **But that doesn't mean I have to use ****_drugs_**** just to make myself better!"**

"Look, Reid, you can deny it all you want. But I'm going by the _evidence_." Rossi put his hand up to stop any further protests. "But more important than all of that right now is this **case**. Now, you can keep doing what you're doing now and risk your job and possibly lives, or you can get your head in the game and keep focused! Come on, Reid, you're a good kid. Do the _smart_ thing." Reid swallowed, unsure of what to say. "Hey, I'm not the bad guy here. I'm just trying to help a **friend**. But you've gotta help _yourself_ first."

A few seconds of silence passed between them before J.J. entered the room. She looked at them in slight confusion. The tension was strong and quite obvious, and it was making her uncomfortable.

"What's going on? Is everything all right?" She looked at Rossi who just raise his eyebrows, and then to Reid.

"Yeah, fine." Reid muttered. He then turned back to the map and pretended to study it.

"Okay, well, Hotch says we're going meet in here in five minutes to review everything, so be ready."

"Thank you, J.J." Rossi smiled at her. They then took their seats in wait of the others as Reid continued to stare at the map in confusion and slight fear.

Everything was falling apart…

* * *

**A/N: ReidGurl, I know I said I'd try to insert the coffee idea into this chapter, but I was thinking and I couldn't find a good way to do it. I've gone back to my original plan, which was to turn that idea into an individual story. I think that'd work much better, so be on the look-out for it. Sorry, again, if you were expecting it.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES**

**Couragexoxo:** Of course not. I've just been having complications and such. And, well, to be _completely_ honest, there were times when I just forgot to write… But I didn't forget _YOU_!

**Castiel Novak the eighth:** Hello, there, and thanks for reading and waiting and reviewing and whatever else you may have done. Tap water isn't always safe, especially if a filter isn't being used. There are several reasons for this, including dirty or rusty pipes, microscopic organisms in the water, etc. (You could easily find numerous articles about these if you just search something along the lines of "is tap water safe") I figure that Reid would be cautious about such things. If he could help it, he would not drink water from a tap unless he was sure it had been purified in some way.

**Love Of Blood:** :D  
Yes, thank you for mentioning that idea. I was actually going to write about that in the last chapter but I completely forgot. It was going to be this big, dramatic scene at the beginning of the chapter. Hmm, I'll have to find a place to put that now. Thanks for reminding me.  
It's not in any way cheating. I put the responses here, so that anyone and everyone can read them. Otherwise, I'd send PMs. I don't know if Reid is going to get better. It will have to depend on what I'm thinking when I finally do write the conclusion. And, yes, there are going to be LOTS of chapters. I'll try to stay on top of this story, but there will be some long waiting involved. But I assure you that I have never uploaded a story that I did not have the _intention_ of finishing.

**miyuki. asaba:** I'm not going to pretend like I knew a word of your review. I used Google Translate. Thank you. I will do more with the self-harm, but that will come later. And, believe me, I had no intention of actually killing Reid. There's no way I could do that. I love him too much (says the writer who keeps torturing him). So, no, he's not going to die…but that doesn't mean he's going to get better… (*evil grin*)

**KellieKat: **Thank you. I'm not entirely pleased with the last chapter, but I'm happier with this one. And, hopefully, you didn't have to try too hard to be patient over the past two days.

**MW3addict:** (evil grin) All right, then. Get ready for some major drama in the next few chapters.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Reid sat in the back seat, watching street light after street light pass them. The car ride was eerily silent, but Reid did not notice. He was too focused thinking about the meeting earlier that day. The entire team had grouped together to review the information they had found. As much as Reid tried to pay attention and contribute, he couldn't. He kept thinking about the conversation—_argument_—he had with Rossi and about how all of his plans kept unraveling. He noticed everyone on the team giving him looks throughout the entire meeting, but couldn't do anything about it without seeming suspicious. All he could do was sit quietly and pretend to think about the case.

Hours later, Hotch finally decided they weren't going to get any farther that day and told everyone to head back to the hotel for some rest. Reid absentmindedly got into the SUV with Prentiss and Morgan and the ride had been silent since. Everyone now and then, he could tell Morgan was looking at him in the mirror or that Prentiss was shooting him side-glances, but he honestly could not bring himself to care. There was nothing he could do. He was losing control of everything.

The vehicle halted to a stop and Reid felt the engine switch off. He looked up and saw the words "_Trader's Hotel_". Collecting his bag, he opened the door and stepped out just as the other SUV was arriving. Everyone gathered in the lobby while J.J. checked them in. She returned a few minutes later with their keys.

"All right. Hotch, here is your key. Rossi…Emily…Morgan…and mine. Our rooms are all on the second floor."

"Okay," Hotch announced. "Let's get everything into our rooms and rest for the night. I want all of you down here by 8:00 tomorrow morning." He watched as everyone nodded their heads sleepily before dismissing them with a short nod. The team was about to disperse when Reid spoke up:

"Uh, J.J.? You forgot to give me my key." He watched as she hesitated and glanced at Hotch.

"That's because you're sharing with me, Reid," Morgan said, showing the key to Reid.

"What?"

"We're sharing a ro—"

"Yeah, I _heard_ that. Why do _we_ have to be in the same room?" Reid tried hard not to let his annoyance show but knew he was failing.

"Well," J.J. started, "We couldn't pay for six full rooms. The most we could get is five, so someone was going to have to share."

"Why does it have to be Morgan and me? Why can't someone _else_ share?"

"I…it just seemed like the best option."

"I offered to share." Morgan said, suddenly feeling twice as tired.

"Well, _I_ didn't. Did no one think to ask me what _I_ wanted? You can't just make decisions for me. If two of us needed to share, why couldn't J.J. and Prentiss share? They usually do. Or here's another idea: we could jus—"

"Reid." He looked up to see Hotch's "no-further-arguments" face, and wanted more than ever to argue. But he instead bit his tongue and glared at Hotch for a moment before snatching the key from Morgan and heading to their room without another word. It took every bit of self-control he had not to slam the door behind him.

Two hours later, everyone was in their respective rooms and fast asleep. All except Reid, who was lying wide awake in bed, trying to ignore the endless ache in his stomach. He dared not move in fear of worsening the pain. Instead, he focused on his breathing and mentally reviewed pain-management techniques. For a while, the pain minimized, and Reid believed he might actually be able to sleep. Suddenly, an unbearable wave of cramps washed over him and he could not prevent the whimper that escaped him. He turned his head and was relieved to see Morgan still sleeping peacefully. After occasionally sharing a room with Reid for so many years, Morgan learned to ignore the sounds Reid made at night or else Morgan would not sleep at all due to Reid's constant nightmares.

When the pain finally lessened a bit, Reid decided he couldn't take anymore. He carefully slipped out of bed and made his way over to his suitcase. He pulled out a clean(ish) pair of clothes and quickly, but quietly, put them. He kept his eyes on Morgan the entire time, thankful that the older did not stir once. Stuffing his wallet into his pocket, Reid gently walked to the door and hesitantly put his hand on the knob. As he unlocked the door, he slowly tuned the knob, wincing with every squeak. Morgan remained undisturbed as Reid carefully opened the door and slipped out, gently closing it behind him. Reid crept passed his other teammates' rooms and then hurriedly paced out of the hotel onto the streets of Omaha, Nebraska.

He slowed to an average pace as he wandered in the direction of a convenience store he vaguely remembered seeing on the way to the hotel. As he walked, he came across a group of teenagers who were smoking. He saw the two girls in the group eye him in what he figured must be disgust. The realization made him walk a little faster. As his pulse sped up, he felt slightly dizzy, but pushed passed it until he saw "_BERNIE'S CORNER STORE_".

Reid weakly pushed open the door and heard the bell faintly ring. A middle-aged man briefly acknowledged him before he returned to polishing the counter. Reid shuffled over to an isle full of over-the-counter drugs and vitamins. He looked at the labels searching for pain killers he can take without having to eat anything. He found something suitable enough and went down the aisle for protein supplements. As he stared at the various bottles, his vision blurred and he wavered slightly on his feet. He shook his head in an attempt to re-focus and quickly grabbed the pills in front of him. He then unsteadily wandered toward the next aisle to find bottled water.

He never made it to the next aisle…

In one second, Reid's vision blurred before going completely dark as he lost his footing and fell to the tiled floor.

He heard a noise…a voice…someone was talking to him… He felt something brush his cheek and he cracked his eyes open. There was the blurred figure of a man with his hand on Reid's face. Gradually, Reid's senses returned, and he opened his eyes a little more.

"…hey…hey…you all right, guy? Hey…" Reid let out a groan and attempted to get up when he felt a hand on his chest. "Whoa, hey, just calm down, guy. Not so fast. How're you feelin'?"

"mrrmm…I'm fine…" Reid lied, mumbling. "...Just need to…" Again, Reid tried to get up, and, again, he was stopped.

"Just hold on, guy. Help is coming."

"Help?" Reid scooted a bit away from the middle-aged man and tried to sit up for the third time.

"I called an ambulance. They're on their way." The man tried to hold Reid down again, but Reid lazily swatted his hand away.

"_An ambulance_?" Reid sat up more in alarm.

"Yeah, it won't be long 'til it's here."

"No…no…" Reid attempted to stand, ignoring the man's protests. "I can't…" Reid looked around nervously. "I need to go." He stumbled as he took a step.

"Wait, you need help. You could be hurt." The man followed Reid's unsteady movements, arms ready to catch Reid in case he fell. "At least let the guys check you out first to make sure you're not too damaged or anything."

"Thank you, sir, for all you've done, but I really need to go." Reid said with annoyance as he mustered up the strength to push open the door.

"But, guy…!" Reid heard the sound of the bell followed by the soft thump of the door closing behind him. He looked around for any signs of the ambulance and headed back to the hotel when he saw none. Having forgotten his pills and water, Reid walked along the route he'd taken before. He passed the teenagers again, but refused to look at them in fear of what he would see in their eyes. Occasionally looking behind him in paranoia, Reid finally neared the hotel. He faintly heard sirens as he opened the door and slipped inside. He waited for the sirens to fade before he journeyed upstairs. Reid opened the door to his hotel room with only a fraction of the caution he had used earlier.

His heart paused and his blood ran cold at what he saw inside…

Derek Morgan was sitting on the edge of his bed, fully awake, and appearing to have been waiting. It was clear that he was not happy. A cuss word Reid rarely ever used was the only thought in his head.

"Where've you been?" Morgan said simply. Reid could recognize the look on his face; it was Morgan's "_no-bullshit_" look. And, yet, Reid tried to push his luck.

"Oh, uh, I was just walking around. I, uh, couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk to tire myself."

Morgan didn't even blink. "Nice story. Now, do you want to try telling me the truth?"

Reid opened his mouth to insist his honesty, but then thought better of it. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, hoping Morgan wouldn't push too far. "I…had gone to the store…the convenience store we passed on the way here."

Morgan continued to stare at him. "Uh-huh. Do you want to try a third time?"

Reid gave him a confused look. "No, I really had gone to the store. I went to buy…" Reid paused. He couldn't say he was buying protein pills. That was pathetic. "…some sleep pills." Morgan didn't change. "I'm not lying to you."

"Oh, you're not?"

"No."

"Then where's the bag?"

"What?"

"The bag, Reid. You said you went to the store, so what did you do with what you bought?"

Reid felt what little color he had left in his face drain away. 'I…"

"Save it, Reid," Morgan said with increasing anger as he stood and made his way to where Reid was still standing in the doorway. "I know where you were."

"…I told you, I was at—"

"**Enough with the lies, Reid!"** All at once, Reid went quiet as he and Morgan stood face-to-face. He dared to swallow. "I _know_ you went out to buy drugs."

Reid's eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. "Wh-what?!"

"Stop playing games, Reid. I'm sick of watching you destroy yourself."

"**I'm **_**not**_** on drugs! Why do people keep thinking that?!**" _'Is it because I'm so weak that taking drugs is the only reason I would ever be able to lose weight?'_

"Because it's _obvious_, Reid." Reid felt frustration build within him. Why couldn't anyone understand?

"I'm not doing what you all _think_ I am. Search me, if you don't believe me!" Reid held his arms up, inviting Morgan to search all he liked. "I guarantee you won't find any drugs on me. Go ahead and look."

For a moment, Morgan just stood there staring at Reid who held a determined look on his face. Morgan then took Reid's offer and patted down the younger agent. After a minute, Morgan stepped back, having found nothing besides Reid's wallet.

"You could have hidden it."

"**Morgan!**"

"Reid! We know there is something going on with you, and _if_ it isn't drugs, then tell me what it really is." Reid stared at Morgan, making no attempt to explain anything. "If you can't do that—if you can't come up with a reason that has nothing to do with drugs—then it can only be assumed that you are using again. That's all there is to it, Reid. Either give me another reason, or it's drugs."

"**But I'm not using!"**

"**Then prove it!"**

Reid quickly lifted up his shirt sleeves and shoved his arms out at Morgan. "See? There isn't any new track marks."

"There are other places to insert a needle, Reid. I _know_ you know that."

"Well, then, look…" Reid stopped himself from telling Morgan to search the rest of his body. He couldn't do that. He couldn't let Morgan see how disgusting he still is. Morgan would laugh. And he would have every right to. "Morgan…I _promise_ you, I am not taking drugs. Please, if there were ever a time you believed me, _please_, believe me now."

Morgan stared at Reid for a long moment, searching for anything to suggest Reid was lying. Reid's eyes said he was genuine, but the facts pointed elsewhere. In the end, Morgan let out a sigh and took a few steps away from Reid.

"Come back in here. We have to wake up early, and it looks like you haven't slept in _weeks_." Reid remained still as Morgan sat down on his bed. He looked up at Reid. "Are you just going to stand there all night?" Reid didn't answer. "Well, when your legs get tired, remember that there's a bed in here waiting for you." Morgan lay down and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. When Reid still hadn't moved after a minute or two, Morgan got a little annoyed. "Reid, get in here now, or I'm going to turn off the nightlight and let you sleep in the _dark_." A moment later, Reid hesitantly entered the room and closed the door behind him. Morgan closed his eyes as he heard Reid slip into his own bed.

That night, neither agent slept in peace…

* * *

**A/N:**** I don't know when the next chapter will be, since I am in the process of moving. Hopefully, I'll write again soon.**

* * *

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Couragexoxo: **Hmm…let's just say that a few secrets will be learned in the upcoming chapters. "Young grasshopper"—I've heard that before, but I cannot remember where…

**KellieKat**: Thanks, I do try to keep everyone in character. Rossi, Prentiss, and Morgan are easier. J.J. can be difficult when it comes to word choice and reacting in certain situations. I haven't tried to write much of Garcia yet, but I think she will have her difficulties. Hotch and Reid are the toughest ones to write because Hotch has to be authoritative but also underlyingly kind, and Reid has to be a genius who can be really clueless at times. But it is nice to know that I am succeeding at this. I thought for sure that I was messing up Reid's character.

**Love Of Blood**: The case is not going to be very important—just a plot device. I'm really sorry; the second part of that review was not for you. It was for misuki. asaba (the review was written in Spanish, which I haven't taken since fourth grade). FanFiction. net automatically deletes any word that looks like an address. I forgot to add spaces in his/her username after the periods, so it was deleted. Sorry, for the confusion. Although, regardless of language, please do not **EVER** apologize for a long review. The longer, the better. Is Spencer Reid going to die? No, I am not going to kill him. But that does not mean he is going to be okay by the end of this. He might be better or even worse. We'll see. :D

**MW3addict**: IF they find out the truth. I make no promises one way or the other. But, yes, confrontations are absolutely delicious to read and to write. It was a little challenging, though, because I had to keep Reid somewhat respectful since Rossi is his superior, but enraged due to the allegations. I think I handled it decently enough. Although, with this chapter, Morgan is not his superior, so I didn't have to hold myself back at all.

**Cas67Impala**: I'm sorry you had to wait so long; I've been a little busy. But I SWEAR that I had already written out the outline for the chapter (something I NEVER do) a month ago. I've been typing bit by bit with each chance I got and have finally finished it. And, yes, when I introduce the self-harm factor (which will be about half-way through this ever-lengthening story), it will be a while before someone notices, _IF_ they notice at all. But that is going to come (I'm not sure how many) chapters from now. But thank you for reading and leaving a review. I is good to know that people are still interested in the eventual self-harm aspect of the story.

**miyuki. asaba:** I was not planning for this to be related to schizophrenia, but I might now decide to do something with the idea. No, Reid won't actual have schizophrenia by the end of the story, but I will play with the topic a bit.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

David Rossi poured himself a second cup of coffee as Jennifer sat down at the table, muffin in hand. Hotch skimmed over the local newspaper, and Prentiss contemplated which coffee would get her through the day. The hotel dining area was quiet, with only the team and a few others occupying it. The four agents looked up as the sound of heavy footsteps filled the room.

"Good morning," J.J. greeted.

"Morning," Morgan grumbled as he made his way over to the coffee pot.

"Sounds like someone had a rough night," Rossi quirked an eyebrow.

"Don't get me started…" Morgan grabbed a mug and poured some coffee as Prentiss took her place next to J.J.

"Hey, is Reid up yet?" J.J. asked with slight concern.

"Hmph!" Morgan grunted, walking towards the others.

"I guess that's a 'no', then." Prentiss stated.

"He's usually the first one down here." J.J. pointed out. "He's almost never this late."

"It isn't 8:00, yet. He still has time."

"I know, but still…"

"The kid could do with some rest." Rossi commented. "Yesterday, I expected him to fall over."

"Morgan," Hotch said, entering the conversation. "How did Reid seem last night?"

Morgan scoffed and shook his head in memory of the night. "I don't know _what_ is going on with that kid."

"Do we still think he's using?" J.J. asked.

Morgan sighed. He took a moment to think before saying, "I'm not sure. I thought he was using before, but after last night…I'm starting to doubt it."

"Why do you say that?" Hotch wondered.

"I asked him. He denied it. But, Hotch, it wasn't like before when we _knew_ he was using. He seemed so genuine. He actually seemed _hurt_ that I thought he was using. He even let me search him. Hotch, _obviously_, there's something not right with Reid. But I'm not convinced that it's drugs this time."

"What else could it be?"

"I don't know." Morgan shook his head. "I really don't know."

Everyone sat quietly for a moment before Hotch spoke again: "Based on your observations, would you declare Reid capable of continuing as an active agent on this case?"

Morgan looked at his boss. He could already tell what Hotch thought. Morgan sighed as he considered his answer. "I believe…it would be best…if Reid was taken off the case."

The team was silent, signaling that they were all in agreement. A few moments passed until everyone looked to see Spencer Reid entering the room.

"Hey, Spence," J.J. offered a weak smile.

"Hi." Reid began to migrate toward the coffee area before he stopped himself and got water instead. Nobody said a word. Reid sat down at the table, next to Prentiss. He took a sip of his water.

"You know, there are some muffins over there." Prentiss said.

Reid stopped at the mention of muffins. He couldn't help but remember what happened _last_ time he was near muffins. "Um, no, I'm fine."

Everyone finished their breakfast in silence. At 8:10, Hotch announced that it was time to head back to the station. Every gathered their things and prepared to leave. Reid was lifting his bag around his frail figure when Hotch stopped him.

"Reid, can I have a word with you?" Reid looked at him confusedly before following his boss into an empty lounge room. "Reid, you aren't well." Hotch held his hand up to stop Reid from protesting. "I don't know what the problem is, but I _do_ know that it is affecting your work." Hotch held his hand up again when he saw Reid opening his mouth. "I don't want to do this, Reid, but I cannot allow the recklessness of one team member effect the outcome of a case. That is why you are off the case until further notice."

"**HOTCH!**"

"I'm sorry, Reid, but I need to think about this case, and you've made it very clear that, at the moment, you are incapable of giving your best performance on it."

"But—"

"And _until_ you have proven that you can think and behave properly, you are to stay here. Is that understood?"

"Hotch, please, I—"

"Is that understood, Dr. Reid?"

Reid hesitated for a moment in disbelief before finally resigning. "Yes, sir, I understand," he said in a defeated voice.

Hotch nodded once. "Reid…I'm not doing this to punish you. I'm doing this because I am concerned about you. We all are." Reid didn't respond. "If you need help, all you have to do is ask. Any one of us would be more than willing to help you with whatever is going on." Reid remained still. "Keep that in mind, Reid. We care, and we just want to see you better." With that, Hotch left.

Reid slowly walked toward a window where he saw his teammates entering their SUV's and driving away. He felt empty. He felt worthless. He felt helpless.

He felt alone…

* * *

**A/N****: Hmm, well this chapter didn't go as planned. Originally, Hotch was going to give Reid another chance. Whoops…  
BTW, anyone who understood the "Traders Hotel" reference from the last chapter earns MASSIVE cool points.**

* * *

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**CM-Reider:** Yes, they are definitely going to feel bad for accusing Reid (which may or may not be happening within the next few chapters…)

**Namira O .O: **Thank you, how flattering. :) I'm never quite sure how good a chapter is because I usually upload it as soon as I'm finished writing it, so I don't have the chance to re-read it (which is why you'll find so many little mistakes). But getting compliments like yours lets me know that I am communicating my ideas well.

**MW3addict:** Yeah, Reid is not having an easy time…..and it's about to get worse… (evil grin)

**Couragexoxo:** Okay, so you've gone from pleading, to complementing, to thanking, back to complementing, to full threatening. Umm…okay….At least now I know who has been mailing me those letters…  
By the way, saying "Imma beat ya" isn't exactly "waiting patiently". At least, not by _my_ definition.

**Love of Blood: **Yes, I am a god over these characters. I want them to kneel, I need simply write it. If I want them to break out into dance in the middle of the street, I have that power. But the downside to it is that I can never appreciate my own story as I may appreciate another. Every time I read my own work, it is with a critical eye instead of an intriguing one. But there's a good and a bad to every writer, just as there is to every one of their stories.

**SpencerReid27: **Thank you. I feel that Reid would have a lack in self-restraint if in this position, but he would still _know_ when he is out of line. It can be a little hard to keep Reid in character when he is doing something that would obviously cause him to be out of character. But that gives me more options.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: As always, I didn't re-read this before uploading, so I hope there aren't too many mistakes.**

Chapter 11

Reid sat still on the edge of his bed. Everything was quiet. Usually Reid preferred quiet moments, but the silence he found himself surrounded by now was unsettling. There was complete silence. No movement outside his door, no calling birds…and no friends teasing him. Not even the voice Reid had gotten used to hearing was there. It had disappeared days ago, and Reid has felt a growing sense of detachment since.

He considered watching television, but the thought hardly interested him. He thought about going for a walk, but he couldn't convince himself to move. Reid contemplated calling the team to apologize, but he figured that none of them would want to talk to him. It was too quiet. Not even his thoughts could keep him company for his mind was empty, as well. His mind—a tool that often helped him as much as it scared him. He relied so heavily on it because it was often the only thing he had. And, now…it has abandoned him. It was all gone… His family, his friends, his job, his mind… What purpose did he still have now that he has lost his greatest asset?

He continued to sit in silence. Suddenly, a sharp tone caused the headache Reid hadn't realized he had to triple in intensity. As the young agent massaged his temples, he slowly realized what the disturbance was. He gently pulled his cell phone from his pocket and stared at the caller ID. Reid continued to stare for a moment before accepting the call and slowly lifting the phone to his ear.

"Hello…?" Reid's voice was groggy as he mumbled into the phone.

"Reid? You there, my cuddly little genius in a bottle?" Garcia's usual optimistic nature was not welcomed by Reid's pessimistic mood, nor by his increasing headache.

Reid made no attempt to hide his sigh. "Yes, Garcia. I am here."

Garcia didn't need to have the same qualifications as the rest of the team to know there was something wrong. "Is everything okay, Reid?" There was no answer. "Reid? Are you all right? You're not hurt, are you? Did something hap—"

"Garcia, I'm fine." Reid offered simply.

"Are you sure? Reid, do you swear to me you're okay?"

"I'm all right, Garcia."

The exhaustion in his voice was obvious, so Garcia decided not to push him…for now. "Well…okay… The reason I called is because I may have some clues on our lady-strangler. I used the geographic profile you made to narrow down the search to anyone with—"

"Garcia, Garcia, stop." The technical analyst immediately ceased talking at Reid's interruption. "…I'm not the one you need to give this information to."

"I don't understand. Weren't you in charge of—"

"Garcia." If Reid had the energy, he would have sounded agitated or at least highly frustrated. Instead, he just sounded tired. "You need to call Rossi or Hotch."

"Why? Are you—"

"Garcia, listen." The young blonde fell silent. Reid sighed. "I can no longer contribute to the team. I've been removed from the case…I'm inactive."

There was silence as Garcia tried several times to close her agape mouth. Finally, she regained enough of her composure to speak.

"Why?"

Just one simple word. A word that brought Reid pain if he _dared_ to try to think of it-but for reasons that were obvious as well as reasons that were unknown even to the young genius.

"…It's complicated," was all Reid offered. Before Garcia could ask for details, Reid quickly said, "You really need to contact one of the others with this information as soon as possible, so I won't consume anymore of your time" before hurriedly hanging up.

And then, everything was silent again.

Reid sat on the edge of the bed, unmoved, for several more minutes. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, but it was odd. It felt thick and heavy. Every pulsation seemed to require an abnormal amount of energy. It _hurt_. His own heartbeat was hurting him. He knew why. Of _course_ he knew why. But he dare not _think_ why. He _can't_ admit why. He just had to push passed it…no matter how much it hurt.

Eventually, Reid mustered the strength to stand up and sluggishly shuffled out of the room. He made his way toward the restroom at the end of the hall, not bothering to close the door once inside. For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at himself in the rectangular mirror above the sink.

Reid saw imperfection and revulsion. The mirror—and everyone besides Reid—saw something else. His skin was pale and dry ('_hideous'_). His clothing sagged around his too thin frame ('_fat'_). His eyes held a haunted look, surrounded by layer upon layer of bags ('_disgusting'_). He slumped to one side as he held unto the sink for support (_pathetic_). His lips were dry and severely cracked ('_unappealing'_). His breaths were strangled and shallow (_insignificant_). He, to put it simply, was ill ('_helpless, lowly, unlovable, weak, horrendous, jejune, grotesque…'_). But only others could see it ('_degenerate'_).

Reid shut his eyes tightly as he was suddenly reminded of his migraine and his cramps all at once. He whimpered slightly, the sound reminding him of how pathetic he was. The pain became too much, and the agent slowly sank down to the floor, clutching his head with one hand and his stomach with the other. He detested the noises he was making, but couldn't help them. He closed his eyes even tighter as he curled into a ball. A single tear escaped down his cheek before the world disappeared.

_**'~*~'**_

He heard something…but he wasn't sure what it was… A voice? It was loud…too loud. It hurt. And then everything was gone again.

_**'~*~'**_

He heard something else this time. Something blaring. He couldn't tell if he was wincing or not. He could feel…hands? It didn't matter, because it was soon after that, everything vanished again.

_**'~*~'**_

The next time he awoke, he knew immediately where he was.

And he couldn't prevent the swear that escaped his lips…

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**A/N: I'm going to try (the operative word being "_TRY_") to upload at least once more this month, maybe twice. We'll see.  
Also, I finally got to write more of Garica. I hope she was in character.**

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**REVIEW RESPONSES**:

**Namira 0. 0: **Yes, I feel that Hotch taking Reid off the case is a much more realistic outcome. In all honesty, the choice doesn't have _too_ much effect on the rest of the story...I was going to have Reid pass out in this chapter regardless of anything. The main difference now is that this gives Reid something else to be angsty over. And that is in no way a bad thing (well, it isn't bad for _us_). ;)

**Couragexoxo:** Talented writer, hmm? Unfortunately, I feel like the last several chapters don't really depict that. They were somewhat rushed and maybe a bit too straight-forward. Or maybe I'm just being picky. I always have to upload soon after I finish typing or else I'll spend forever trying to perfect every aspect of it and still not be completely pleased. (There's also the chance of me forgetting if I don't upload immediately...which has happened before).  
You're favorite story? But its not even done yet, LOL. What if the rest of the story turns out to be dreadfully horrible? What is I have Reid suffer from a heart attack two chapters from now and he dies all alone? What if Hotch fires Reid and Reid later kills himself? It's best not to jump to conclusions when this story isn't even halfway done yet (I don't think it is...not unless I DO decide to give Reid a heart attack). Something tells me that if I kill Reid we won't be friends anymore...  
Not that I was planning on doing it... ... ...maybe... ...  
**):D**

**MW3addict: **Sorry about the length. It was actually supposed to be two chapters, but I suppose I may have rushed things a bit and left out some stuff, then decided to make it all one chapter. This chapter is about 200 words longer, so I hope that's okay? I'm going to try to make my chapters longer, but that might mean it will take me longer to update...

**Guest: **Of course Reid wasn't going to stay calm :D  
Also, I doubt Reid would have been able to go home since the BAU probably wouldn't have the budget to let a single agent go home because he was being troublesome, and he isn't thinking clearly, so I don't think he wold have packed his passport to get on a normal flight.  
Find new co-workers? Hmm, that's an idea Reid might have.

**Guest: **Here ya go!

**Guest: **I'm going to assume you meant "but too short". Sorry if it was too short. I'm going to try to work on that.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N****: Just so you know, I've started writing my progress for each chapter in the "Updates" section of my profile. For example, I may write when a chapter is half-way or three-fourths finished. That way, you can have an idea of when the next chapter is coming. If there is no update for the chapter, I likely have not started writing it yet.**

**As always, I didn't re-read. Enjoy! (…****_or not_****…)**

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Chapter 12

"Morgan, you go around the back. Dave and Prentiss, check the sides. I'll enter the front. Officer Lowski, with me." Hotch said hurriedly as he reached for his weapon. "Let's go."

Within seconds, the small house was flooded with FBI agents and local cops. For a minute, everything was silent. Hotch cautiously made his way through the kitchen, ready to attack, if necessary. Two additional officers entered the house, following Hotch into the dark hallway. Suddenly, there was a loud thump from another part of the house, causing everyone to momentarily pause. The sound of a gun being fired was heard, and everyone soon sprang into action, running toward the source. As Hotch approached the garage, he saw Prentiss walk out, securing her gun.

"We got him, Hotch." She said, pointing behind her.

Rossi appeared with a local cop next to him as they push the handcuffed man in front of them. Rossi stopped next to Hotch as other officers guided the man out the house. Hotch could hear Lowski saying "Dennis Wheatley, you are under arrest for the murders of Melisa Moore, Juliana Thames…."

As they all went outside, they passed Morgan, who was exiting the shed. The agent saw the bullet wound in the UnSub's shoulder. "What happened?"

"He had a knife at Rossi," Prentiss offered. "He didn't see me, so I took the shot. He should just be thankful I went for his shoulder." The agents watched as Wheatley was stuffed into a police car. He looked at Prentiss with resentment. She could see him swearing at her from behind the window.

"Well," Rossi said, trying to ignore the foul-mouthed UnSub. "Looks like we finished the case sooner than expected."

Prentiss nodded. "Guess that means we can be back in D.C. by tonight. Good. Those have to be the hardest hotel beds we've had to sleep in since that case in Cleveland." She absentmindedly rubbed her neck.

Morgan was about to answer when his phone rang. He smiled slightly upon seeing the caller ID. "We got him, Baby Girl. Thanks to—"

"REID'S IN THE HOSPITAL!" Morgan would have winced from Garcia's shriek, but he was in momentary shock.

"What? What do you mean Reid's in the hospital? What happened?" The other three agents immediately looked at Morgan with a questioning and concerned look.

"I-I don't know what happened. I mean, the last time I talked to him, he said he was fine, but I knew he was lying, but I didn't do anything to try to help him, and now he's hurt, and—" Tears were filling Garcia's voice at an exponential rate.

"Garcia, Garcia, calm down. Garcia. Listen to me, all right? Whatever happened is not your fault. Do you understand me? You had nothing to do with this."

The distressed woman sniffed. "I know, I know, it's just that—"

"Hey, hey, hey. I won't have you blaming yourself, you hear me? Now, tell me where Reid is and we'll go to see how he's doing. Can you do that, Garcia?"

Morgan heard a few more sniffles as Garcia tried to compose herself. She took a deep breath before saying, "He's at Trinity Memorial Hospital. I've sent the directions to your phone."

"Thanks, Baby Girl." Morgan said, hurrying to the SUV with the others in tow. "Now, I need you to call J.J. She's at the station; let her know what's going on and tell her to meet us there."

"Yeah, all right," she said with another sniffle.

"Hey, Garcia? Are you going to okay?"

"Yeah, yeah… Just…promise me you'll make sure he's okay."

"I will. You know I will. I'll call you later once we know what's going on." Morgan turned on the engine as Prentiss shut the final door.

"Okay. Morgan? Be safe."

"I will. And I don't want you worrying too much, got it?" He began pulling out of the yard that the SUV had haphazardly been driven into.

"Yeah, got it. See you later." She said softly before the line was disconnected. "Oh, Reid…" she whispered to herself. "Why do you always have to get hurt?" She took a moment to calm down before dialing the number to J.J.'s phone.

"Garcia? What's up?"

* * *

Jennifer Jareau marched into the emergency room with the force and fury of an army. She went directly to where an administrative registration clerk was helping a middle-aged woman.

"That's Feller," said the woman as she watched young nurse write down her information. "F-E-L-L-E-R. You got that?"

"Yes, ma'am. Now I need to know your—"

"Excuse me," J.J. interrupted as she pushed passed Ms. Feller. "I need to know if a friend of mine is okay. His name is Spencer Reid. He was brought here about two hours ago."

"Excuse me!" Ms. Feller gave J.J. an irritated glare. "I _was_ here first!"

"I'm sorry, miss," the red-headed clerk said as politely as she could, "but you're going to have to wait in line."

J.J. impatiently whipped out her credentials and all but shoved them in the woman's face. "Look, I am an FBI agent, and I need to see Spencer Reid this instant."

Ms. Feller took a step back as she suddenly noticed the firearm on J.J.'s hip. The nurse, however, was not impressed. "I'm sorry, agent, but unless this is an absolute emergency and you have clearance, I cannot show you any special privileges." She then turned back to Ms. Feller who was looking more than a little worried.

"Listen, lady," the clerk looked at her with rapidly decreasing patience. "My _friend_ is in here. And if you think I'm going stand around patiently without even knowing what happened, then you'd better—"

"J.J.!" The blond stopped mid-sentence as she turned to see Prentiss rushing toward her.

"Emily!" The two ladies hugged for a moment. "Do you know what's going on?"

"No, not yet. A doctor should be coming soon to tell us what his condition is. Apparently, a member of the cleaning staff of the hotel found Reid unconscious in the bathroom. She called an ambulance and he was brought in almost two hours ago. That's all we know so far."

"What do you think happened to him?" J.J. whispered.

"I don't know, but we're going to find out. Come on," Prentiss put a hand on J.J.'s back as she guided her to the southeast corner of the waiting room. "The rest of the team is this way."

Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan looked up as Prentiss approached with J.J. She was all too familiar this scene. It was what she saw every time Reid was in the hospital. Hotch and Rossi held a stoic look. It took trained eyes to see the worry and guilt behind their eyes. However, they dared not let it show, for they had to be strong for the rest of the team. Morgan did not try as hard to conceal his emotions. The pain, anger, and fear he felt were obvious simply by looking at his face. Prentiss also attempted to be stoic, but J.J. knew that she often struggled to keep her emotions hidden. As for J.J., she would allow herself a moment to express her emotions before composing herself.

It was a familiar scene to all of them. In fact, it almost felt routine by now. J.J. sat down quietly next to Prentiss. Rossi handed her a cup of coffee that had been reserved for when she arrived. They sat in silence, occasionally taking a sip of coffee. The wait lasted several more minutes (what felt like hours to them) before a doctor finally came out.

"For Spencer Reid?" The doctor was a man around Spencer's age with "dirty blond" hair. His eyes were a pale green color.

"We're here." Hotch said, standing up. The doctor made his way to the corner, and glanced over the five agents who looked at him with questioning eyes.

"Hello, I am Dr. Louis. I have been in charge of examining Spencer Reid. Are you family?"

"No, I am Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner," Hotch held up his credentials as the other agents quickly pulled out theirs. "These are S.S.A.s David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and Jennifer Jareau." Hotch motioned to each agent as he introduced him or her. "We work with Dr. Reid."

"I see. I'm sorry, but—" They all knew what Dr. Louis was going to say next. They've heard it several times. Because they were not related to Reid, there was certain information they could not know unless his family agreed to it. But having gone through this more times than he'd like, Hotch knew what to say to allow them access. He explained to the doctor that the only family Reid had was incapable of giving consent and that they were as close as family as he had. For good measure, he told a small fib, stating that Reid was a vital part of the case they were working on. Eventually, the doctor agreed to let the team see Reid. He asked them to follow him to the young agent's room on the third floor.

"So what happened?" J.J. asked the doctor as they walked toward the elevator.

"The paramedics brought Dr. Reid into the hospital, unconscious." The six men and women boarded the elevator. "We have completed initial checks to determine any physical issues. From what we have gathered thus far, Dr. Reid had not been attacked by another person." The elevator dinged and everyone walked out onto the third floor of the hospital.

"So there's no physical damage?" Prentiss inquired.

"Well…no, I wouldn't say _that_."

"What do you mean?" J.J. asked, worry building with every step they took.

Dr. Louis stopped walking and turned to look at the five agents behind him. He sighed lightly. "Well…normally, this sort of information would be reserved for family only, but since Agent Hotchner has explained the circumstances, I suppose it is acceptable for you to know his current condition." Each agent stiffened upon hearing the word "condition".

"Just give to us straight, Doc," Rossi said, no longer a fan of the suspense. "What's wrong with him?"

Dr. Louis took another sigh. "You see…Dr. Reid has—" The doctor was interrupted by a sudden beeping. He briefly looked down at his hip before jogging down the hall with the agents in tow. He came to a halt at room 329, where a young nurse was looking frantic.

"Patricia, what happened?" Dr. Louis questioned, looking into the room before settling his eyes on the nurse.

"I-I-I-I don't know, Doctor. I just came in to check on him and-and-and—"

"Patricia, try to calm down. I'm sure it isn't your fault."

"But-but-but I've never had anything like this happen before. Am I going to get fired? I-I-I need this job; I'm still w-working my way through c-college. Oh, _no_, I'll never get my d-degree if I'm in jail f-for _murder_. I can't—"

"Shh, it's okay." Dr. Louis motioned to a nearby doctor to help the nurse before she went into a panic attack.

"That doesn't look too good," Rossi commented as he watched the doctor and the nurse walk down the hall. "What happened?"

Dr. Louis swallowed before taking a deep breath. "Agents…I am sorry to tell you this…but I'm afraid that Dr. Reid…"

"What is it, man?" Morgan rushed over to the room and looked inside. No one was there.

"Dr. Reid has gone missing."

At those words, the heart of each agent sunk a few inches deeper…

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**A/N****: There you go! A nice, long(ish) chapter for you. I must admit that I don't know anything about medical or hospital procedures, so if I got something wrong, please forgive me. The next chapter will be either from Reid's or the team's point of view; I haven't decided yet. Also, for those of you waiting, the next bit of self-harm is coming SOON. It will appear within the next 3-6 chapters. The story is about to have a huge turning point coming up, so be prepared for that. That's all I can say for now without any spoilers… Onto the reviews!**

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**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Guest:** Yes, I think you're right that he would not need a passport (I wouldn't know…I've never been on a plane before…or on any mode of transportation that wasn't an automobile or a bike). Your review does sound like a good and plausible idea. I wish that I had time to consider it before writing Reid passing out in the last chapter. I know absolutely nothing about anything legal or medical, which is why I am cautious about how much information I include. I want to include enough to make the chapter seem more realistic, but not so much that I upset someone by getting it all wrong. And I can't trust myself with the internet too much because I will end up doing a thousand other things online before finally remembering that I had a story to write (yes, this is part of the reason why it can take me a while to update). I just hope this chapter was accurate and believable enough…

**Guest:** Thank you. (_Flattered_). I appreciate you taking the time to leave a review!

**Joey Danny Ketail:** Heehee, more flattery. (=^_^=) _tyvm._

**Doclover:** Yes, I do love Hotch/Reid Father/Son moments (there really is not enough of them in the show). I'll definitely be sure to include scenes with Hotch having a talk with Reid. And I'll see about the purging bit.  
Also, I took a look at your profile (mainly because I thought you chose your name as a Doctor Who reference. I was slightly disappointed) and I found some interesting stuff on there about how our minds interpret words. I was able to read both, so I eagerly added them to my profile! ^_^

**miyuki. asaba:** Hopefully this was long enough to satisfy you for a while. I'm going to feel a bit guilty during November because I may not be able to write as much (I'll explain this in the A/N in the next chapter, hopefully).

**cordelia. watsinhimer:** _Haha!_ No, no, there was no sick psychopath in this chapter. But if you want one, I can include one in a later chapter. Though, I must warn you that it won't do Reid any good (but that means more angst for us).


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N****: I apologize or not writing in a while. For those of you who have read my profile updates, you know that I spent the month of November participating in NaNoWriMo. I will not update this story anymore for December because I have other stories I have not updated for several months.  
Much thanks to kateryne1 for reading the chapter in advance and giving a few suggestions on how to improve it.**

**Enjoy (****_or not_****...).**

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Chapter 13

A cool breeze shoved itself against the body of Spencer Reid. It slowed his pace, but he never noticed. His mind was blank, but his heart was full. He was unsure of himself. He was confused and frustrated and so very tired. And, yet, he kept walking, despite wanting to rest. That was all he could do. It was the only option he had left. He didn't know how long he had been at the hospital, but he hoped that it was not long enough for them to figure out who he was or to examine him. He hoped that the team had not been contacted. Perhaps they were too involved in the case to answer any other calls. Or maybe...they did get a call, but they simply didn't care enough to come to the hospital. Why would they care? It was his own fault. If he was healthier, if he had more control over himself, if he was more motivated to get better... But he wasn't. He still had more work to do. He couldn't let the team see him in this state-not even able to stay conscious. Hotch had already realized how weak he was. If they found out about this, Reid might be grounded for months...or _fired_. He needed to prove himself. It was too soon for him to be found out.

Reid stumbled slightly but paid no mind. He kept walking, head down, fighting his growing sense of dissociation. The world around him was inconsequential, and he didn't even notice as it all faded away from him. The only thing he was aware of was the scuff of his feet along the pavement and the sinking feeling of his inner organs. Even his own thoughts seemed lost to him, causing a blank cloud to form, hiding everything else. It was when a car rushed by, horn blaring and men shouting, that Spencer finally looked up. He found himself halfway across a wide street that he did not recognize. His vision filled with an intense light as another car came his way. Uncertain, he stood there, blinking at the brightness. The car hurriedly swerved around him, causing it to screech as the air filled with the smell of burnt rubber. Reid knew that he needed to get onto the sidewalk, but his mind was having trouble comprehending the situation. None of it felt real. Perhaps if it _were _a dream, he would wake up if a car hit him. And if he woke up...maybe the person he saw in the mirror would no longer exist. It was such a quiet whisper amidst the foggy state Reid was in that tried to reason this. But he did not have the energy to trust in this uncertain logic, so he stood there in a daze, waiting for a sign to tell him if he was indeed dreaming or not.

"**HEY, DICKHEAD! HEY!**" The shout barely registered in Reid's mind. "You there! What, are you tryin' get yourself killed or somethin'?! **Hey**!" As the screaming grew louder, it threatened the shroud that covered Reid's mind. "What, are you _deaf_?!" Reid blinked and slowly raised his head toward the direction of the yells. He managed to see that a man was marching toward him. It was then that he realized several cars had stopped behind him. People were shouting and honking their horns. Some were insulting him and even threatening him. And then there was one man who was exiting his car and coming directly toward Reid. Something sparked, telling Reid that this man posed a threat and that he should raise his adrenaline levels to prepare to either fight or run. He ignored it, continuing to stare as the man came closer and closer, yelling the entire way there. Finally, the man was within a foot of Reid. Through the haze, Reid noticed the man was slightly shorter than him with a muscular build and almost white, blond hair. He did not look pleased.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doin', huh?" Reid knew that the logical thing to do was to reply, but he could not bring himself to form any words. "Look, you're holdin' up traffic. You gonna move on your own, or am I gonna have to help you out, huh?" Reid blinked. "_Well_?" Nothing. "All right, then." The man grabbed Reid roughly by his collar. "Guess I'm gonna have to force my way to work, 'cause I'm not being late for some suicidal _idiot_." On the last word, a large fist connected with Reid's abdomen. The breath was knocked out of him, and he gasped desperately. His eyes widened as he suddenly realized the depth of the situation. His mind began to clear just enough for him to notice his surroundings. There were people in their cars who watched on with a look of horror on their faces. Some drivers did not care and were simply waiting until it was over. But the ones Reid noticed most were the ones who actually _encouraged _his attacker.

Reid wrapped an arm around his midsection and slowly stood up straight to face the man. Upon this second examining, he noticed the man was around his sixties and had several scars along his face. On his neck was a tattoo of the U.S. Marine Corps Seal. Reid swallowed, regretting the situation he had walked (or rather, had _not _walked) into.

"Ah, so you're finally awake, now, huh?" Reid straightened further, despite the pain in his stomach that hurt far more than it should have. "You gonna move now?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to inconvenience anyone," Reid said softly.

"What's that, Sunshine?" The man turned his head, prompting Reid to speak louder.

"I said 'I'm sorry'," Reid spoke a little louder and hated the way his voice cracked on the final word.

"Aww, looks like someone's still going through puberty. Maybe you'll learn some respect when you grow up, kid."

Reid gritted his teeth. "I am _not _a kid. I can take care of myself!"

The man looked Reid up and down before chuckling. "You sure about that? 'Cause that..." The man moved his hand downward while motion in to Reid's body. "...sure as _hell _isn't healthy."

Reid clenched his hands into fists as he glared at the man. "What the hell do you know?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said. You know nothing about me! You don't know how hard I'm working, and it still isn't good enough! You don't know what I've been through! You don't know **anything**!"

"Listen, _kid_, you need to watch what you're sayin' and get your ass out the damn road. What's the matter? You mad 'cause your momma isn't feedin' you right?" The man approached Reid, his face mere centimeters away. "I think it's time you grew up and started taking care of yourself, 'cause I'm sure your momma doesn't wanna be taking care of your crazy, screwed-up ass anymore. Why don't you just accept that your problems aren't enough for anybody to give two shits about, and they sure as hell aren't enough to make me late for work. So, **get your ass out the ****_road_****!**"

Reid glared into the man's wild eyes. "_Fuck_. _You_." The words surprised Reid even as they left his mouth, yet he could not bring himself to care. His mind barely had enough time to register the quickly-approaching fist before he fell to the ground, wincing at the pain surrounding his left eye. Suddenly, the man was towering over him. A wad of saliva hit the side of Reid's face. When he attempted to wipe it away, he felt a sharp kick to his abdomen, followed by another and then another. Around him, Reid noticed people staring. No one attempted to stop the pain he was enduring. Some people were cheering, giving the man suggestions of where to hurt Reid next. It was like before, in high school, when he had been tied to the post. He was tortured, and no one did anything about it-they all just laughed. No one cared then, just as no one cared now. He was foolish to have _ever _thought anyone cared. Truly, truly foolish.

After a minute of abuse, the man finally stopped kicking. Reid watched through squinted eyes as the man roughly picked Reid up and carried him to the side of the street where he was thrown onto the sidewalk. The man spat on Reid once more, mumbling about being late to work as he walked away. A moment later, everyone had returned to their cars and was driving away. People on the sidewalks walked passed Reid, acting as though nothing had happened. The day continued like any other. Reid realized that it would always continue, regardless of whether he was there or not. In the eyes of those around him, he was only as noteworthy as a speed hump. Easily run over, annoying, and quickly forgotten. Nothing more than a minuscule footnote in the autobiographies of those he encountered. What difference would there be if he disappeared? Would anyone even notice if he stayed on that street, if he never returned?

After a long while, Reid was able to ignore his throbbing stomach long enough to sit up. He carefully dragged himself to the nearest building, gritting his teeth at the pain each movement caused. When he reached the brick wall of the building, Reid slumped against it. He fought for breath, yet feared the pain breathing caused him. He tried to assess his injuries, but part of him did not care enough to do so. It hurt...and, yet...the pain was strangely refreshing. It reminding him that, yes, he was still alive. Yes, he was still a part of this world. Yes, he was a person-perhaps not a worthy person, but still of human flesh. He still had a life, and the pain was proof of it. It kept him away from the foggier regions of his infected mind. It kept him awake. It kept him aware. It kept him focus on what he needed to do. And right now, what he needed to do was get up. But he couldn't-the pain was too much.

_'No. No. I have experienced worse pain before. I __**know **__how to handle pain. My entire life has prepared me to deal with pain. This barely registers. It's nonexistent. I can manage it on my own.'_

Reid grunted as he placed his hands on the building and slowly lifted himself up. He stood, leaning against the wall, gathering his strength. And, then, he continued walking with a look of determination upon his face. He was able to think for the first time in days. The primary thought in his head: _'I still have work to do.'_

He walked, somewhat limping, for more than 17 blocks until the clouds of his mind threatened to take over again. Reid shook his head. _'No. I'm not ready yet.' _As the distance he walked grew, so did the fog. It was not long before the veil had finally swallowed his thoughts, and once more, he was walking aimlessly. Part of him clung to the small bit of clarity that shone through his vastly shrouded mind, but that clarity was only strong enough to force himself to stop and sit under a small tree. He stared at the world in a blank daze. He felt as though he was waiting for something, but he could not be certain of anything. Should he continue walking or stay? Why was he walking at all? What would happen if he stayed? Was there a third option?

Reid continued to sit, feeling the world become more and more distant. Yes, he was waiting. But he did not know what he was waiting for. An answer? A solution? A guide? A reason? Motivation? Or perhaps...a person? Reid mindlessly surveyed the area, finding nothing of interest. He would wait until whatever or whoever he was waiting for would come for him. His eyes glanced at his surroundings again as a raindrop landed on his neck. Soon, the city was hidden within a watery veil.

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**A/N****: Although I doubt it, if anyone wants to read the story I wrote for NaNoWriMo, you can find the first 2 chapters on ****_FictionPress_****.  
Also, I am considering writing a short Criminal Minds story for Christmas, so stay tuned. ;)**

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**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**CM-Reider: **Terribly sorry! I never meant to become a murderer!

**kateryne1: **Merci beacoup pour lire le chapitre à l'avance et donner vos pensées. ^_^

**Doclover: **Cool, it must have been fun to have a horse. And I would highly recommend watching Doctor Who (although, it might be best to skip seasons 6-8). :)

**MW3addict: **Thanks. I was worried that I put too much useless information into the last chapter. I haven't looked at the word count for this chapter, but I think it is the longest I've done in a while. Dialogue certainly helps, as I discovered while doing NaNoWriMo.

**cordelia. watsinhimer:** Hopefully this chapter cleared up your confusion. Remember that Reid is not in a proper state of mind. He is sleep deprived, starving, and dissociated. And, yes, the team is definitely going to find out some things very soon. ;)

**miyuki. asaba:** Yes, it's a bit late, but I managed to upload in December like you requested. Unfortunately, the next update will not be until some tie in January.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Not uploading for a while, since I've begun freelance writing for a bit of cash.**

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**Enjoy! (…**_**or don't…**_**)**

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Chapter 14:

"_Missing_?" Rossi questioned. "How the hell can he be _missing_?" A few feet away, Morgan dialed the number to Reid's cell phone and anxiously put the phone to his ear, hoping to hear a voice from the other side of it.

"You have my sincerest apologies, agents," Dr. Louis said calmly. "Dr. Reid must have slipped away at some point when a nurse was not present in the room."

"What kind of hospital is this where anyone can just disappear without being noticed?" Rossi seethed.

"I've had enough of this," Morgan mumbled angrily as he put his phone away and approached the doctor. "Listen, that agent who was in there is my best friend, and for the past few months, I've been watching him change into something I can barely even recognize. I don't know what's going on inside his head, but I do know that he needs help. So, please, is there anything you can tell us that will let us help him?"

Dr. Louis swallowed uneasily. "Yes. And I admire your dedication to your friend. I think we should all go some place more private to talk. If you'll follow me, agents." Dr. Louis led the five agents into an empty break room around the corner. He let each of them enter before shutting the door behind them. He motioned for them to take a seat, but they all opted to stand and stare at him instead. "Let's get right down to it." The doctor said with a sigh.

"Is he using?" J.J. asked abruptly.

"I'm sorry?" The sudden question took the doctor by surprise.

"When he was examined, were there any drugs found in his system?" J.J. felt the team's eyes on her, and she faced them. "I can't wait around and keep guessing forever. I need to know." A few team members lightly nodded their heads in agreement.

"To answer your question, no, we did not find any evidence of drug use." The team stared at him, wide-eyed.

"You're positive?" Hotch asked as he felt his chest become heavier. If not drugs, then what?

"One hundred percent." Dr. Louis, sensing the confusion and unease among the agents, allowed them a moment to soak in that information before continuing. "But we did find alarming evidence of something as bad, and possibly even worse, than drug usage."

Rossi began to feel a cold sweat run down his spine, and he could see a few others swallowing nervously. He would rather take a psychopathic killer any day over this suspense. "Go on."

"When Dr. Reid came here, he was extremely malnourished. His glucose levels were exceedingly lower than they should be. He lacked pigment in his skin, signaling a deficiency in sodium as well as other essential minerals. He suffered from muscle depletion and an extreme lack of fat, which, given his physique, can be deadly. He also showed obvious signs of severe sleep deprivation. All of this, among other things we discovered, suggest that Dr. Reid has not been eating—most likely for weeks, if not more. Can you verify that your friend has been eating less than normal?"

"Yes." Hotch answered simply.

"I don't think I can even remember the last time he had an actual, decent meal." Prentiss spoke somewhat softly.

"He's never been the best eater," J.J. commented. "But now…"

"Agents," Dr. Louis softened his voice a bit and gave them a sympathetic look. "You are an intelligent, well-educated group. You specialize in matters of the mind." He hesitated as he chose his next words, bringing his voice to nearly a whisper. "I would find it rather hard to believe that none of you at least have an idea of what is happening to your friend."

The air hung thick in the room. Every agent had a deep chill within them as they felt their breathing shallow. The sound of footsteps going passed the room could be heard for a moment, then everything was silent. Blaringly silent.

"No," J.J. insisted, only slightly cutting into the tense atmosphere. "Reid's smart—a genius, in fact. He wouldn't do that. He knows the risks, he…he just wouldn't…."

"I'm going to try his cell again," Morgan declared, whipping out his phone and hitting #3 on his instant dial.

"Agents," Dr. Louis responded in a calm manner. "I know this must be difficult to accept, but, as Agent Morgan mentioned, Dr. Reid needs help."

"Damn it," Morgan whispered. He released a long sigh before calling again.

"There are a number of programs and guides for how to—"

"REID!" Everyone immediately snapped their heads around to where Morgan was standing. "Yeah, it's me. Where are you? ...What? ...All right, all right. Why don't you look around, try to find some street names, and I'll…"

All of the agents listened intently to Morgan's side of the conversation, trying to fill in the blanks. All except J.J., who approached the young doctor.

"I think you are wrong about Reid. He wouldn't do that. He just wouldn't allow himself to go that far."

Dr. Louis gave a slight smile and a sigh. "For the sake of Dr. Reid and the rest of you, I sincerely hope you are right."

J.J. turned back to Morgan as he finished the phone call. Reid would never do what Dr. Louis was implying, J.J. was sure of that. And yet, as Morgan relayed the call to the team, J.J. couldn't help the doubt that swirled within her.

* * *

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**kateryne1:** Merci beaucoup, et tu peux écrire où tu veux! (Did I write that correctly?)

**CM-Reider:** Well, I suppose that depends on your definition of "soon", eh?

**Couragexoxo:** And I love your reviews!

**Goosey416:** This chapter is just to get the plot moving for the next chapter, which is when things start to change. Yep, lots of angst is on its way.

**MW3addict:** Hopefully, if a situation like this were to happen in real life, someone would step in. But in fanfiction, I get to be as cruel as I want :D.

**Tie-Dyed Broadway:** Heehee :) I was only joking (sort of)! Yes, each season is worth watching (even if each season is not worth liking, in my opinion). So, I've come across another Whovian…You probably know what I'm going to ask… Favorite Doctor? RTD or Moffat (or Classic Who)? Favorite Companion? (Anyone reading this who hasn't seen DW is probably very confused…)  
Sorry, I guess I'm yet another writer who has not updated for ages. But I assure you, if I upload a multi-chapter story, I WILL finish it (it may take a while or I might lose interest and the quality of writing will suffer, but I'll finish it nonetheless). Luckily, I'm still interested in this story, so I have more motivation to finish it.

**cordelia. watsinhimer:** Thank _you_ for taking the time to review, and thanks for letting me know that I cleared the confusion. I try to make my writing understandable without patronizing the reader.

**jenben5900:** Yes, I am continuing…at a shamefully slow rate…

**Love Of Blood:** Is nearly half a year "soon"? :(

**aniutka370:** Thank you, and your review is great!

**Rosa:** Thanks! I'm flattered! Since Criminal Minds stories on this subject are in short supply, I try to make this a great story for readers who crave this kind of angst as much as I do.

**miyuki. Asaba:** Sorry for the wait. I try to write when I have the time, but I honestly can't say when the next chapter will be uploaded…

**FlyKitty7000:** "The power of love or whatever" X'D.  
Well, no, I wasn't planning on doing that, especially not rehab. Although…the _threat_ of being put in a mental institution could be enough to make Reid less hesitant to trust the team…

**Silven K:** Are you trying to bribe me? XD Well, the chapter is up, so you owe me a good review!

**MoonMoonMoo:** Maybe? :3


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Whew! I managed to upload this _right_ before the New Year!**

**Enjoy! _(...or don't...)_**

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Chapter 15:

Reid silently sat under the tree, staring up at the sky. He watched as the rain fell, not caring that he was getting soaked. He was vaguely aware that he was shivering. This wasn't the first time he had been out in the rain, but had he always shivered so violently? Did it always rattle his entire body, shaking him to the core?

If Reid had been more focused, he would have noticed how his entire body had become as numb as he felt. He was chilled to the bone as though he had been buried in snow and left to die. His chapped lips quivered as though he were whispering a secret. He rarely blinked—eyes trained on the sky he could hardly see beyond the pouring rain. Somewhere in the distance, there was a flash of light, followed by a loud crack and a slight rumbling in the ground.

But none of that mattered.

He had forgotten what mattered.

Why was he there? He couldn't remember anymore. What was this place? How did he get here? Was there something he was supposed to be doing? Did he have a purpose being here? Did he have a purpose at all?

Yet another raindrop hit his eye, and he reflexively blinked it away. At some point while sitting there, he had begun wheezing. His breath caught in his throat, and he coughed lightly a few times, never making any other attempts at movement. He was in pain, but he was too numb to realize it. His lungs burned, and stomach felt contorted. His fingers were sharply sore, and bones ached. His head pounded mercilessly, and his heartbeat labored. Multiple parts of his body were bruised from his earlier assault.

Somewhere, off in the distance, he heard a sound. If he hadn't been shivering, he would have felt a vibration against his thigh. It took several seconds for it to register somewhere in his brain that his phone was ringing. He knew it was most likely his team, but he made no attempts to retrieve the device. He sat slumped against the tree, and the ringing eventually ceased.

His mind held a swirling cloud of distant thoughts—all of them choppy whispers with changing voices. They were so far away from the forefront of his mind, and Reid barely acknowledged them. Who's thoughts were they anyway? They couldn't be his. This wasn't his body, his mind. Who was he right now?

So many thoughts rotated in his mind (no, not _his_ mind. Someone else's. Someone who just-so-happened to have the same life and memories as Spencer Reid.).

_Should I have answered? It's just the team. They're not going to care. It was the team. Should have answered. They don't care. Spencer, they don't care about you. They might be worried. If they care, they will call back. They won't call back. Should have answered. Don't answer. They'll know… They'll know. Don't want them to know. Don't ever let them know. They can't—don't answer it. But what if—they won't call back—no one cares. They can't help you. They can't ever know. They will hate you. They already hate me. They just tolerate you—tolerate me. Hate me—hate me. If they care—they don't care. They haven't called back—they won't call back—they have forgotten you. Forget me. They'll leave you here to die. They should. Be free of me. You're ugly, Spencer. Who would love me? Who would love you? They only tolerate—never understand—they could… I want them to—they can never understand. They hate you. I hate you. You deserve it. I deserve it. Don't call, don't call, don't call. I know you don't care—why did you call? You don't care. Please, call again. They don't care about you. Need someone. They should forget you. Don't want to be alone. Don't want to—they hate you—die alone. Who could ever love—please, someone. Need—they can't stand you—a sign. You're ugly—fat—ugly—worthless. Need a sign. Pathetic. Am I real? You shouldn't even exist. I'm sorry. You're a burden. Don't burden them. Don't make them tolerate you anymore. I'm sorry. But I don't—so selfish, selfish, selfish—want to be alone. You're afraid. I'm afraid. Don't want to be alone. Help me. Save me. No one can hear you. PLEASE! Scream, scream, scream. No one cares. No one can help you. You don't deserve it. If they call again—they won't call. Was that a sign? You're pathetic. Was that what I was waiting for? If they care—they don't care—they've never cared—they'll call again—they won't call. Be alone, alone, alone. Is it a sign? So alone. Should I wait? They won't call. Please call. They won't call. Need someone. I'm waiting, waiting, waiting. They don't care. They don't care. They never cared. Who could love me? Please, someone. Alone, alone. Help. Don't deserve. Please, call. Hate you. Need someone. Worthless. Burden. Please..._

The thoughts raged on in Reid's mind. So many thoughts, so many voices, none of them his own. He had forgotten how to find his own thoughts. Did he even have thoughts of his own? It was all so very, very far. His mind was blank, yet so very loud and busy.

_Move. I can't. Don't want to. I should. Can't. Worthless..._

So many conversations were taking place at once. He could not focus on any of them. They were all sporadic and too quick to process.

_Help. Don't deserve—call—no one—they don't care—alone, alone…_

Reid's eyes moved from side to side as he stared up into the sky, as though he were searching for something. His fingers on his right hand twitched slightly.

_Who could ever—so useless. Hurts. So pathetic and fat and ugly and—am I in pain? You deserve it. Can't feel. Can't feel anything. Don't want to feel. Feeling hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Pathetic. Not good—shut off emotions—not good. Don't care, don't care, don't care. Why haven't they—am I wet? Who cares, who cares, who cares? Can't do this. You're weak. You're a horrible person. I'm pathetic. Don't want to keep doing this. So tired. So stupid. Want to rest. Can't stop. Don't want to keep doing this. Quitter, loser. Want to stop this. You can't. You never can. Tired of being tired. Lazy, disgusting. Want to rest. Gauche, moronic. Rest—grotesque, loathsome, wretched, filthy—forever. Forever…_

Reid's eyes widened slightly when he heard the familiar tone again.

_Don't answer. It's a trick. They don't care. But they called again. Lies, lies, lies, lies. Could they? Do they really? They don't care. They hate you. Burden.. Maybe they can—horrible, greedy—help? Maybe, maybe, maybe…_

Reid somehow managed to slowly lift his arm and slide his hand into his pocket. As he pulled out the wet device, it stopped ringing.

_They don't care. They won't call again. They don't—_

Reid nearly startled when the phone started vibrating again. Without any consideration, he raised the phone to his ear as he hit the appropriate button.

"REID!" The loud cry was enough to snap Reid into a slightly more aware state of mind.

"M-Morgan?" He stuttered. It was then that he realized that he was freezing. His teeth chattered despite his attempts to stop them. How long had he been out there?

"Yeah, it's me." The voice on the other line was somewhat soothing to Reid's ears. It was almost as though the voice was wrapping a blanket around Reid, assuring him that it will be all right. Reid resented himself for relying so heavily on Morgan and the other teams members. Surely, they were tired of him using them as a means to feel secure and safe. "Where are you?" Morgan asked with an urgency in his voice. Reid interpreted it as sharpness and winced internally.

"I-I-I..." Reid swallowed and cleared his throat, willing his stutter to go away. He didn't need Morgan seeing him as even weaker than he already was. "I d-don't know..."

"What?" Morgan asked in disbelief.

"I d-d-don't…" Reid swallowed again and sat up a bit. "I w-was w-walking and en-ended up-p here."

"All right, all right. Why don't you look around, try to find some street names, and I'll drive over to where you are."

"O-okay." Reid agreed as he slowly—painfully—hoisted himself off the ground.

"Reid? Are you all right? You keep stuttering."

"I'm f-fine. Just c-c-cold." He struggled to move his feet but eventually began what somewhat resembled a walk.

"Cold? Oh, no, don't tell me you're still outside." Reid heard the disappointment (but not the concern) that laced Morgan's voice. He winced outwardly this time.

"I, um… I w-was in a, in a park."

"_Reid_, it is raining cats and dogs out there! It's going to start thunder-storming soon! What the _hell_ are you doing wandering around?!" Morgan's voice had dropped to a whisper. Reid thought it was out of embarrassment for him. In actuality, Morgan did not wish to worry the team anymore than they already were. Reid was about to apologize when Morgan spoke again: "Have you found any street names yet?"

Reid looked to where he had walked to. There was a sign about ten feet away, but he could not make out the letters. "Umm, just a second..." As he got nearer to the sign, he realized that he did not have his contacts in. After all, he had been kicked off the case. There was no point in putting them in.

_The case. Did the team have to pause their investigation just to figure out where I am? Another woman could have died! What the hell kind of agent am I?! So selfish, stupid, worthless…_

"Reid?" Morgan worried from the silence.

"Hmm? Oh, uh, I s-see a st-st-street c-called 'W-Wink-kler.'"

"So a park near Winkler," Morgan muttered to himself. "Reid, listen to me. I want you to find a building—a gas station, a library, store, anything—and I want you to go in there and stay there, all right? I'm coming for you."

"O...Okay."

"Good. Find a place and don't leave until I arrive. I'll be there soon. Try to get yourself warm, kid."

"Um...yeah..."

"See you soon," Morgan commented before hanging up.

Reid stood there, still holding the phone to his ear in a daze. After a long moment, he suddenly remembered what Morgan told him.

_I need to find a building._

He began to drag his feet along the concrete, searching for the nearest place to find refuge in. The small bit of awareness Reid achieved from the conversation faded away, and his mind was once again consumed by a cloud of thoughts.

_Don't even know where you are. Where am I? Nebraska—Winkler—where? Not normal—memorized map by now—useless. Don't know—just a child. A child? Morgan called you "kid". A child. Weak, hopeless. Go find a safe place—stay there—wait for parent—childish, childish. Wait for Morgan—childish. Can't survive on your own. Don't even know where I—will he even come—leave you—leave me._

Reid ceased in his roaming when he found himself outside of a convenience store called "Blud's Haven".

_Go inside—get warm—stay there—wait for him—like a ch—like a child._

Reid hesitantly pushed open the door and slipped inside. The man at the register was busy with a female shopper, and there only seemed to be one other customer at the back of the store. Reid, unsure of what to do, moved to the area next to the doors. He found himself standing in a corner, jammed between a shelf full of snacks and a magazine rack. Reid was vaguely aware of the heat inside the store gradually warming his body. He noticed that he was creating a puddle on the floor and shifted awkwardly.

_Burden—can't do anything right—repulsive—will he come?—disgusting._

After a few minutes, Reid's trembling legs could no longer support him. He gently slid down to the floor. The woman who was previously shopping gave him an odd look as she left. The cool air from the opened door caused Reid to shudder and wrap his arms around his legs as he huddled in on himself. He sneezed, sending another chill through his body and causing him to hold himself even tighter.

The other customer left, leaving Reid as the only guest left in the store during an oncoming thunderstorm.

"Hey. Hey, buddy. Hey." Reid's head snapped up in response to the unfamiliar voice and a finger poking at his sore body. "Hey, you all right?"

Reid recognized the man as the cashier. He was actually a little younger than Reid with light brown hair and bright blue eyes. Reid blinked, suddenly realizing that he had dozed off for a few minutes.

"Mm..." Reid attempted to speak, but it seemed as though his lips and tongue were reluctant to cooperate. He settled for a nod instead.

"You certainly don't look all right. What are you doing here?"

Reid tried again to talk. "Mm..." He cleared his throat and licked his chapped lips. "I'm w-waiting f-f-for som-somebody," he spoke quietly and somewhat raspily.

"Ah, I see. Are you waiting for your parents?" Reid simply blinked at the man. "Do you know how long it will be until your parents arrive?" Reid tentatively shook his head. "Hmm. You were told to wait here?" Reid nodded. The man sighed. "Well, this is a bit of a problem. See, we normally can't have people just hanging around in here. But… The boss is on his lunch, so what he doesn't know..." The man smirked. "What's your name, kid?"

"...Sp-Spencer?"

The man held out his hand, and Reid gently took it. "Nice to meet you, Spencer. My name is Joshua. How long were you out in the rain, Spencer?" Reid shook his head while slightly shrugging. He coughed a few times and promptly curled into himself more to capture as much body heat as possible. "I think you might be getting a cold, Spencer." Reid merely shivered in response. "Hold on, I'll be right back. Stay there, okay?" With that, Joshua disappeared into some room in the back of the store.

"_Are you waiting for your parents? What's your name, kid?" Kid. Kid. You're a child to them. Hold old does he think—just a child. Children are weak. I'm older than him. Children can't protect themselves. Children can't do things on their own. "Do you know how long it will be until your parents arrive?" Just a child. Can't take care-"waiting for your parents?" A child. "Stay here, okay?" "Find a place and don't leave until I arrive... Try to get yourself warm, **kid**." "I was just making sure you're in the right mind-set and you're focusing on the job. There's no need to get defensive, **kid**." Just a child. Weak, helpless. Kid, kid, kid, kid…_

"Here you go." Reid nearly jumped when he heard Joshua's voice again. He watched cautiously as a towel was placed around his body. "You should dry up."

_He doesn't care. You're a child—only wants to keep you from dying—so helpless—doesn't want to be charged for not a helping a child in need—so frail..._

"Hey, Spencer, you don't look very healthy. Here, why don't I grab you a hot meal?" Reid made a noise of protest. "Don't worry about it. You don't have to pay anything. It's on the house! Do you want a TV dinner or a sandwich?" Reid opened his mouth to speak but never got the chance. "Really, you look like you could use both. Be back in a few minutes, all right? Just gonna heat these up." And then Joshua was gone again.

_Don't wanna eat—hungry—shouldn't eat…_

Spencer felt a sudden chill course its way through his body and attempted to huddle even more. He glanced around the store as he began to slowly dry himself with the towel he had been given. Flashes of the previous night entered his mind. It was impossible to believe that less than 24 hours had passed between now and the _last_ time he was in a convenience store.

_Protein pills. Never got—could now. Stealing—pathetic. Just a pathetic, fat child._

Even if Reid wanted to look for dietary supplement pills, he could not will himself to move other than to dry himself. He almost had the urge to laugh at what a mess he had become.

Joshua came out of the room a moment later, holding a TV dinner in one hand and a pre-packaged sandwich in the other. Both were processed foods. And processed foods always meant more calories than necessary. Reid wanted to scream. His stomach, however, made a different kind of noise. He hated himself for subconsciously licking his lips.

"Here you go, Spencer! Eat up!" Reid shook his head. "What's wrong? Is it too hot or something?" Reid shook his head more impatiently. He felt trapped. He was crammed in a corner, soaked and chilled to the bone, with a strange man feigning politeness while trying to force him to eat garbage. Garbage that smelled rather good. Garbage that made his stomach angry and his lungs almost choke on the aroma. He coughed again, causing his lungs to ache even more.

"Jeez, Spencer, you really are sick, aren't you?" Joshua placed the food on the front desk, not far from the register. "I'll go find you some cough medicine. Then, you can eat, okay?" Reid made more sounds of protests but they were ultimately ignored as Joshua began to scan the medicine isle.

Thankfully, it was at that moment that the door opened to reveal none other than Derek Morgan. Morgan glanced around the stored before his eyes finally fell on Reid.

"Reid! It's about time I found you!" He rushed over to the younger agent. "Why haven't you been answering your phone? I must have called you at least twenty times!" Reid cocked his head in confusion, pulling out his phone. He pressed a few buttons, but nothing happened.

"I th-think it's dead," Reid apologized quietly.

Morgan sighed. "Figures," he muttered to himself.

_Figures. You're so useless—figures. Can't even charge a—so helpless—figures._

"Took me so long to get here because I had to check every gas station and store on this street to see where you were," Morgan explained as he helped Reid stand.

"Um, excuse me?" Morgan turned to face Joshua, who had a bottle of cough syrup in his hand. "Are you his parent?"

"Parent? What? No, I'm his best friend. I'm here to take him home."

"Sir, if you try to take this boy, I'm afraid I'm going to have to call the police," Joshua threatened, pulling out his phone.

Morgan stared at him in disbelief for a moment before sighing and taking out his badge. He watched as Joshua's eyes widened. "Reid is my co-worker. We both work for the F.B.I."

"F.B..." Joshua looked over to the man he previously thought was a lost boy. "Uhhh…."

"I appreciate you helping him," Morgan said as he handed the towel back to Joshua. "I'll take it from here."

With that, the two agents exited the store, leaving a confused cashier in their wake. Reid said nothing as Morgan opened the door to the SUV for him. He remained silent as Morgan entered the car and started the ignition. Morgan wordlessly handed a blanket to Reid before driving away. The short drive back to the hospital was silent, apart from the sounds of the road and the gentle wheezes of Reid's breathing as he dozed off against the car window…

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**A/N:**** I'm surprised that this chapter came out as long as it did. Also, I feel as though ****parts of ****this chapter were a little difficult to read/get into for people other than myself… :/  
(and Kudos to the _awesome_ people who understood the "Blud's Haven" reference!)**

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**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**CM-Reider: **Thanks! :)

**ThatBigBlueBox:** Ah, another Whovian! :3 All right, I'll add more of that in future chapters.

**Tie-Dyed Broadway:** My favorite is 10, and my second or third-favorite (depends on the day, I guess) is 3. Agreed on RTD (BTW, what's your opinion on Chibnall taking over in 2018?). My favorite companion is Martha—she is so underrated (but I'm not going to go on a rant about that now). Donna is actually my least-favorite RTD companion, and perhaps second-least-favorite New Who companion (Here's to hoping Clara stays gone!).  
Well, I'm guilty of all of those things, but I would never abandon a story that has caught the attention of so many people, even if I do grow tired of it. "You are an amazing writer, and because of that you'll get everything you deserve in life." If only life were that simple... :/

**cordelia. Watsinhimer: **Not as soon as I would have liked, but I got there eventually thanks to a certain site. "and that everything in your world is going good." Umm... I'm going to choose not to comment on that last part...

**Doclover:** :D

**Hippiechic81:** Maaaybeee. Guess it depends on whether I feel like being a jerk or not when I write the final chapters... :D

**Guest:** Well, I managed to squeeze this chapter in before the year's end, so that's "soon", right?

**Tina: **And now you don't have to wait! Well...until the next chapter...which might take a while... :/

**matt:** Yeah, but I did not make much from it, and I spent _quite_ a bit of time on it...

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**TO MY WHOVIAN REIDERS:** I'm thinking about writing (eventually...probably not any time soon, since I have other fics to work on) a Doctor Who/Criminal Minds fanfiction. How is this for a plot?  
The Doctor (probably Tenth since he's my favorite, but it's not definite) with or without his companion accidentally crosses over to another universe. In this universe, he is seen as a fictional character in a show called "Doctor Who". He is without his TARDIS, but the world is similar enough to the Earth he knows that he can manage on his own. He finds out that he was actually pulled to this world (accidentally or intentionally) by some alien being that has disguised itself and integrated into the human population as part of a plot. In order to get closer to this alien and get back to his own universe, The Doctor must go undercover, using his psychic paper and wisdom to climb into the upper layers of the government. (And he has some sort of device that hides his true appearance, since he is known as a TV characters.) When a mysterious series of murders occur, The Doctor knows it is the creature. He must work with the BAU's most elite profiling team in order to track down the fiend. (And for laughs, he gets into debates with Reid and Garcia about Doctor Who at some point.) But as time goes on, The Doctor is at greater risk of his identity being discovered (maybe the device he used to disguise himself has a time limit that slowly reveals parts of who he is). He knows that if this world—one in which those who believe in aliens are seen as insane—discovers who he really is, they will capture him and dissect him. It is now more important than ever that he finds the alien and gets back home. (And, possibly, if his device stops working and Reid finds out who he is, Reid can help hide him and such?)  
Sound like a good story? There are only a handful of DW/CM fanfics out there, and I wanted mine to be something a bit more realistic so that it better fits in with the CM world...


	16. Chapter 16

**Enjoy! _(...or don't...)_**

'

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Chapter 16

Reid awoke shivering ferociously. He pulled the object around him (Morgan's jacket?) tighter to his body as he blinked his eyes open. It was still raining, but the car was parked. He could vaguely make out some voices around him.

"…not safe…"

Hotch? Reid straightened up slightly and pressed his ear to the cool window to hear more clearly.

"You should have seen him, Hotch." That was Morgan. "He was _freezing_ and seemed like he was _lost_."

'He'? Were they talking about the UnSub?

"...think…might…Schizophrenia?" The voice was quiet and hard to make out, but he was sure it belonged to J.J. He heard Hotch say a few unintelligible words.

"Well, I guess we can officially rule out drugs," Prentiss declared, loud and clear. Reid figured she must be close to Morgan and both of them were near the car, since their voices were the easiest to hear. "The Doc said there wasn't anything in his system. And when he ran away, he didn't go for another fix."

"No, he just sort of…strayed…" Rossi spoke slowly, in thought.

"What if J.J.'s right?" Prentiss's voice began to fade as she moved closer to Hotch. "What if…is…phrenic break…? Sounds like…symptoms…including…"

Reid huffed in annoyance at the way the rain covered his teammates' words. It then occurred to him that he shouldn't be eavesdropping in the first place. Somewhere in the background of his mind, a self-deprecative comment arose, but he ignored it, pressing his ear harder against the safety glass.

"How…know for sure…?" J.J. again. It was quiet for a moment, and Reid began to wonder if the team had walked away.

"For now, let's just get him inside and warmed up," Hotch, in his definitive voice.

"…something to _eat_, too." Prentiss was approaching the car again, but not as close as before.

Suddenly, there was a click, and Reid was falling half-way out of the car. His cheek hit the ground as his sides protested against the odd position he was in.

"Reid!" He wasn't sure who said it—his mind was blaringly foggy as it tried to make sense of what just happened. He opened his eyes and looked down to see Morgan staring at him. The older agent looked almost as tired as Reid felt. When Reid noticed Morgan's hand on the door, he was able to (far too slowly) process what happened.

"Are…you all right, Reid?" J.J. stared at him in concern (_disgust_).

Reid slowly dragged the rest of his body out of the car and painfully managed to stand up. His entire body felt awkward, and he briefly wondered if he was standing correctly. Everyone was staring at him, and he unconsciously chewed the inside of his bottom lip. He couldn't stand to look at them, to see the pity and annoyance they held for him. He opted to observe his surroundings instead. With blurry vision obstructed further by the rain, it took Reid a moment to recognize the building behind the team.

"Hey, Reid…" He flinched hard when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He forced himself to still when he realized the voice belonged to Morgan. Morgan seemed unfazed by his reaction. Maybe he didn't notice? "I think we should go inside. Get you checked out." His voice was soft, but Reid didn't notice. In that moment, he didn't notice very much of what he should have. He didn't notice the way the team watched his every movement, analyzed every shaky breath he took. He didn't notice the stress and sheer worry on each of their faces. He didn't notice how violently he shivered. He didn't notice how wheezy his breaths were nor the pain in his lungs.

All of a sudden, Reid realized what was happening. He was standing there in the rain while his teammates, the people he was foolish enough to think of as _friends_, stared at him as though he'd gone insane. They were speaking softly, so carefully as though they worried he might run away. They were trying to get him inside, "checked out", because they thought something was _wrong_ with him. He was freezing and wet and nauseous and in pain, and so very, very _tired_. And when this situation finally hit him, Reid only had one thought, one desire…

"I...w-want t-t-t-to go h-ome." He could barely hear himself. He could hardly even recognize his own voice. Immediately, Reid entered a violent coughing fit, finally acknowledging how his lungs felt as if someone were igniting a fire below them. He felt Morgan's hands on his shoulders, trying to steady him.

_Home_, he thought. Where he didn't have to deal with any of _this_. Where he could just settle down with some warm coffee and watch Star Trek marathons. Where he could eat without feeling any shame or disgust. Where he had friends he felt he could confide in about his problems. Where he was...happy. Or, at least, the happiest he'd ever been in his life.

"I just want to go home," he mouthed, out of breath. He felt Morgan encase him in a strong hug. But it didn't feel the way it should have. Morgan's hugs used to feel warm, safe, accepting. This was just...a hug. Two strong arms wrapped around a weak body. Nothing more. Reid felt a pang of sorrow when he noticed this. Perhaps, this was all their hugs ever were. Maybe he was the only one who got something more out of it. Maybe he was just fooling himself yet again.

"We'll get home soon," Morgan whispered, still holding onto Reid. That soft voice that once comforted Reid now meant nothing. "But, first, I'm really worried about you, man. We all are." Reid heard a crack in the other man's voice. Morgan breathed sharply through his nose, almost like a sniffle. Reid interpreted Morgan's behavior as anger. "So, please, Reid, please. Come inside. Get checked out. We just want to make sure you're all right. And then..." Morgan took a deep breath, releasing it a bit shakily. "Then, we can all go home." Morgan stepped back. Moving his hands to rest on either of Reid's shoulders, he looked the younger man in the eye. "Okay?" After a few, lengthy seconds, Reid slowly nodded his head. "Good." Morgan briefly tightened his grip on Reid's shoulders before releasing them. "Good." He turned around to the rest of the team, who never stopped staring. "We're going inside."

At Morgan's statement, Reid noticed a look of relief on his teammates' faces. He figured they were happy to finally get out of the rain.

They walked slowly. Reid knew he was to blame. Between the shivering and his already unsteady legs, he did all he could just to remain upright. And even then, he needed to lean against Morgan for support. No one said a word. Reid kept his eyes on the ground, refusing to meet anyone's eye. When they approached the building, Hotch held the door open.

Reid felt his eyes gradually closing. He knew he was leaning against Morgan more and more, but he couldn't stop himself. He let the older agent guide him through the hospital. Even though they weren't truly his friends, he still trusted them more than anyone. As Reid's eyelids shut, he felt Morgan easing him into a sitting position. He heard voices around him, but they were lost as his fatigue took over.

Reid awoke nearly as exhausted as he had been when he fell asleep. His mind was clearer, and his shivers had lessened tremendously. Trying to swallow proved difficult as his throat resembled sandpaper. He felt a thumping in his temple. The headache never did go away. Neither did the stomach pains nor the dizziness nor a lot of other signs he subconsciously knew he shouldn't be ignoring.

Closing his eyes, Reid chose to focus on his surroundings. The uncomfortable bed and bright lights above him let him know where he was the moment he was conscious. There was an IV tube in his arms. If he focused enough, he could feel liquids being transferred into his body. Nearby was a light shuffling noise. Someone else was in the room, presumably a nurse or doctor. Reid took a deep breath, which was followed by a harsh coughing fit. Reid groaned as he attempted once again to swallow. It was even harder to do this time.

"Ah, you're awake," a male voice calmly pointed out. Reid opened his eyes, knowing there was no point in pretending to be asleep. "Here." The man was suddenly in front of Reid, holding a cup to the agent's lips. Reid allowed it, too thirsty to care how dependent and weak it made him appear. "You gave us all quite the scare, Spencer."

Reid's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Who was this guy? What was he talking about? Why did he call Reid "Spencer"? Not even the people he has worked with nearly every day for years call him "Spencer". J.J.'s "Spence" is just a feigned attempt to make him feel welcome in a place he didn't belong.

"Patricia?"

"Yes, Doctor?" Reid raised his head to see a young nurse across the room.

"Can you let the other agents know that _Spencer_ is awake?" Reid's eyebrows scrunched further upon hearing the emphasis on his name. The doctor shot him a warm smile. Suspicion rose within the agent.

"Yes, Doctor. Right away." The nurse briskly left the room.

"We never got to formerly meet." The doctor stuck out his hand, smile still in place. "I am Dr. Louis. But you can just call me Charles, if you want." Reid weakly accepted the hand.

"I'm—" Reid winced and his hand shot to his throat. In response, the doctor gave him more water. Reid cleared his throat. "I'm Dr. _Reid_," he greeted softly, making sure to put emphasis on his last name.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Spencer," the doctor replied with a hand on Reid's shoulder. Annoyance built inside Reid from Dr. Louis' apparently refusal to use Reid's last name or title. "We didn't get the chance to speak earlier, seeing how you were unconscious at first, and then you disappeared on us." The smile broadened and Reid felt a pat on his shoulder. "But you're safe now, and that's the important thing. This is a safe environment, Spencer. All anyone wants to do is help."

Reid's annoyance grew. Dr. Louis was speaking to him as if he were a child who had been molested! Reid was about to somewhat-politely ask for the doctor to remove his hand and stop treating him like a child when they were interrupted.

"Spence..." He looked over to see his teammates coming into the room. In Morgan's hand was his smartphone, which showed a video feed of Garcia. Reid studied them. Garcia and J.J. wore fake smiles, as they usually did around him. Prentiss and Rossi looked disappointed while Hotch and Morgan seemed angry. It hadn't occurred to him that it was actually concern on their faces.

Dr. Louis finally let go of Reid and moved away to allow the other agents to gather around Reid.

"How you doing, man?" Morgan's voice sounded heavy and that stirred something within Reid. Guilt?

"I'm, uh..." Reid cleared his throat and roughly swallowed below licking his chapped lips. "I'm...okay..." No one's expression changed. As if he could lie to these infinitely better profilers.

"Oh, Reid," Garcia cooed. "You had us all so worried. I swear, I'd be there right now if Morgan would let me."

_'Morgan didn't want you to bother_,' Reid thought. '_Why waste your time and money on such a pathetic excuse for a federal agent?'_

"Once you're in D.C. again, I expect lots of hugs, Mister."

Reid played along with the charade of affection by nodding. As if Garcia would even _want_ to touch him. All these years, forcing herself to be nice to him. He was sorry to have put Garcia and the others in that position, and yet, too selfish to let them know that they don't have to pretend to like him anymore.

"Excuse me," Dr. Louis called out. Everyone focused their attention on him as he picked up Reid's chart. "I'd like to discuss Spencer's condition and treatment options with everyone, if that is all right with you, Spencer."

Reid nodded. They already knew he was weak anyway.

"All right." Dr. Louis tried to hide his sigh. They all noticed it. "Well, let's begin with the basics. The bruising from what I assume was a physical assault will heal soon. We were worried a rib may have been fractured after multiple kicks to the abdomen, but an x-ray showed otherwise. We have some pain medication to help with the injuries. Apart from the assault… Low blood sugar, dehydration, starvation, slightly irregular heartbeat, low glucose levels, anemia, exhaustion, malnourishment, lack of pigment, muscle depletion, a deficiency in nearly every essential vitamin and mineral, and what looks to be the beginnings of hair loss." As the doctor spoke, his smile faded into a more serious composure.

Reid stared in surprise. He knew any one of those conditions could be deadly on their own. Having _all_ of them was practically inviting death. His medical chart made him seem as though he'd been held captive for weeks. Reid berated himself for allowing himself to become so fragile.

"Spencer," the doctor continued, putting on a small smile. "we have you on an IV to get fluids back into your body. The dehydration wasn't too severe, so you should be off the IV shortly. After that, you will need to drink plenty of water and start eating more to raise your glucose levels and get some vitamins in you. Your skin should start to get its natural color back within a week if you follow my instructions. Which means you have to eat an appropriate amount, all right, Spencer?" Dr. Louis was looking right into Reid's eyes, eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer. Reid nodded. "Good. Because we can't get you better without your help." Reid nodded again.

"Is there anything else going on with Reid?" Garcia questioned over the phone. Garcia was not a profiler, and she hadn't been in the room when Dr. Louis told the team of Reid's condition earlier that day. No one on the team could tell Garcia of the doctor's suspicions.

"Ah, yes. Spencer, your immune system is significantly weakened for the time being. You have pneumonia, but thankfully, it is not severe enough to warrant a lot of concern. I am going to prescribe some antibiotics. Hopefully, the pneumonia will be gone within a few weeks." Reid nodded. "Listen, Spencer," Dr. Louis sighed as he came to the foot of Reid's bed. "Look you around you. You're surrounded by people who care very deeply for you. Who just want to _help_ you. I'm sure a part of you must already know why you are in this state."

_Because I can't do anything right,_ Reid wanted to say. Instead, he cast his eyes downward. Admitting it would make his team think he'd given up on trying to be better. If he gives up, they won't want to bother with him anymore.

"Spencer, I want you to know that you have nothing to feel ashamed of. While anorexia is not as common among males—"

"_**ANOREXIA?!**_" Reid clenched his throat, grimacing and regretting having just yelled. He swallowed before continuing at a much lower volume. "I am _not_ anorexic!"

Dr. Louis hesitated. "I'm...sorry. I...thought you had realized your condition—"

"I'm _not_ anorexic!" Reid repeated with a fire in his eyes. A part of him wondered why he was so angry. Was it because he was offended or because he knew it was the tr—_no_, he was _not_ anorexic. He was just doing what needed to be done, what he should have done years ago. Once the weight is gone, he'll stop. It's just dieting and exorcise. And he would only purge if he had no other choice. He had complete control over everything. He was in charge.

"Then how else do you explain losing forty-five pounds in two months?" Rossi questioned.

Reid stared at Rossi for a moment before looking at everyone else in the room. '_That's why they think I'm anorexic? I lost weight too quickly? I thought they'd be happy. They can't believe I was actually able to do it. They're so used to me being fat that the only way I could ever being fit is if I had an _eating disorder_.' _His eyes stopped on J.J. before he looked down again. '_I'll prove to them that I can be fit, that I belong here! And I'll do it without them thinking I have an eating disorder! They'll see. And then maybe, they'll start to like me…'_

Reid swallowed, then licked his lips. He was going to need to focus. He needed to sell this. He was in a room full of profilers. All it would take was one tell, one voice fluctuation. He calmed himself, formulating, imaging his performance before testing it out. For once in his life, he was going to try to be flawless.

Reid gripped the sheets. "I...I'm sorry..." He let his voice crack but only a little. "I never...meant to worry you guys. That was the last thing I wanted, which is why...I didn't say anything."

The entire room was still, everyone focused on the young agent. Reid put everything he had into making this perfect. He drew a shaky breath and raised his eyes. He thought about every terrible thing that had happened to him but not too deeply. Just enough to feel a sting as tears filled his eyes. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment to seem as though he were trying not to cry.

"It...It's my mom."

"Your mother?" Prentiss reiterated.

"Did something happen to Diana?" J.J. asked gently.

Reid nodded before taking a deep breath. "She….she…." He bit his lip softly and allowed a tear to fall. "She tried to kill herself."

He could see the shocked and worried expressions around the room. He let more tears fall, making his breaths more ragged.

"I..." He wiped away a tear only to have it replaced a second later. "I got the call about two months ago. She...she cut her wrists open with a pen." Reid sniffed, wiping his check again. He raised the pitch of his voice while lowering the volume. He had cried enough times to know exactly how frail he sounds when he does. "I...I should have been there. When...when I visited her on Christmas, she seemed different. I just thought she was having one of her episodes. And when...when I was leaving, she didn't want me to go. She said..." He stopped, scrunched his eyebrows together, and looked down. "She said if I left, she would hurt herself. I..." His chin wavered, and his voice became more broken. "I didn't think she meant it." Reid took a deep, unsteady breath, which was followed by a few coughs. "After New Year's, I got the call. I tried to speak to her, but she refused to talk to me. She said… She said it was all my fault and that I had failed her as a son." Those were words Reid's mother had actually said to him, years ago, during one of her episodes. Thinking of that day caused fresh tears to fall. "I just… Knowing my mother could have _died_...and all because of _me_. I should have stayed. I should have listened to her. I should have—"

"Oh, baby, you know that's not your fault!" Garcia soothed.

"She's right, man," Morgan supplied. "Your mother isn't well. Chances are she would have tried whether you were there or not."

"But I...I could have..." Reid shook his head.

J.J. placed a hand on his arm and looked at him empathetically. "Spence, there was nothing you could have done. Blaming yourself for what happened isn't going to help anyone, least of all, you."

Reid pursed his lips together, looking thoughtful. "I just...lost control. I got so stressed out with everything going on. I..." Reid shook his head lightly. "I got depressed. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. No matter what I did, I couldn't stop thinking about it. About how I could have prevented it. About...how I had failed her. It got so bad, the only thing that could get me out of bed was work. I knew I had to do everything I could to stop other people from dying, since I wasn't able to help my mom." He wiped his cheek, trying to blink away the tears.

"Reid," Hotch spoke gently. "Why didn't you tell us any of this?"

"I...I didn't want to worry anyone. And if you found out, I knew you'd put me on leave. I had to be here, Hotch; I _needed_ to help save people."

"Yet in forcing yourself to work before you were ready, you jeopardized not only our cases, but your own life, as well."

Reid squeezed his hands together. "I'm sorry," he said pathetically. Hotch sighed.

"So, what happens now?" Prentiss asked.

"We're going to help you, Reid!" Garcia called out with tears in her voice. "Anything you need, just ask! We'll do everything we can to make sure you're feeling better in no time!"

"Thanks, Garcia." Reid gave her a weak smile. He felt guilt over creating such a lie about his mother, but he was ultimately relieved that it had worked. His eyes flickered across everyone in the room. They settled on the doctor, who looked skeptical.

"Dr. Louis," Hotch spoke. "Is Doctor Reid able to travel yet?"

"Well," the doctor glanced at the chart and then at Reid. "I would highly advise that Spencer stays here for the night. I would like to monitor him, make sure no infections develop, make sure he _eats_ and gets proper fluids and rest," he explained with a pointed look at Reid. "If all is well in the morning, he should be cleared for flight." There was a beeping noise. Dr. Louis briefly checked his pager. "Pardon me, agents," he politely excused himself before exiting.

J.J. took Reid's hand in hers. "Don't worry, Spence. We'll help you." Everyone gave their individual signals of support.

Reid wondered when giving fake smiles had become second nature to him…

* * *

**A/N:** **Sorry for the long ****wait****. I've been busy with freelance writing, trying to earn a bit of money before I start college this fall. I'm going to try to update at least once more this summer.**

**This is the longest chapter thus far at 3,775 words! There is about to be a large shift in the story, starting next chapter. Self-harm will be focused on more during this shift.**

**In case anyone is confused, Dr. Louis was calling Reid "Spencer" and smiling at him to make Reid feel safe, cared for, and in a warm environment with people he could trust and possibly open up to.**

* * *

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**MW3addict:** Thanks! I was worried the scattered thinking would be hard to understand.

**Couragexoxo**: Thanks, and will do!

**ThatBigBlueBox**: Reid is just so child-like sometimes, especially when he's sad. Which Christmas special? The Return of Doctor Mysterio?

**KiaOraToGube**: I just hope I actually write the crossover some time before I die. If not, someone else should definitely put the idea to good use.

**Guest**: Don't you cry no more. (I've been binge-watching _Supernatural…_)

**Guest**: It'll get finished! ...At a really slow rate...but surely! ...If I don't die first, that is…

**anna**: Thank you! Here you go!

**Guest**: Long wait, but here's the next chapter!

**Hannah-SpencerReid-West**: I still have a lot of chapters in mind, and it would be a shame to stop now! ;D

**Artemismoon91904**: _"Smile a little today."_ I smiled a lot thanks to your comment! What a thorough compliment!  
Funny you compare me to Shakespeare for two reasons: 1) I don't like any of his plays and 2) I'm apparently, somehow related to him, according to my mother.  
_"...__can I be jealous of you?_" Um, sure, if you want.  
_"I can knew exactly what Reid is feeling and feel it with him."_ Cool! That's what I was going for. I think the best angst is the one you can feel yourself.  
The DW/CM cross-over is unfortunately not coming soon. I still have other fics I've not yet updated in...I'd rather not think how long.  
_"If you don't mind the question, how old are you?"_ 18, as of this past winter. ('Course I'm a winter kid. Could I be this cruel to my favorite characters otherwise?)  
_"...you gotta write yourself a real book."_ Well, I have books I've started, told myself I would finished and then forgot about. I have two philosophical sci-fi books I want to put on Amazon when I finish writing them. I already have one short story (less than 2,000 words) on Amazon, and I am hoping to add more. If you are interested, just send me a PM, and I'll let you know how to find it.  
_"...__thanks for actually reading this far down." _Of course! Long reviews are godsend!

**nugnug**: _"But I just read this chapter like I was watching the show..."_ That's probably the best thing you can say to a fanfiction writer! I worry about characters not seeming realistic, so it's good to know it feels almost canonical!

**nene**: Here you go!

**Little Mouse on the Praire:** I just used the Marine to seem like someone who knows how to fight and likely win. No disrespect nor stereotyping was meant. I actually was going to use a police officer at first, but it wouldn't fit the story as much in terms of logic. A police officer beats up a skinny guy who never even put up a fight, and it is instantly trending. So, I thought "soldier". I contemplated which to use—Navy, Army, Air Force, Marines, Coast Guard—then figured I was wasting too much time on a silly detail about a minor character that no one would pay much attention to anyway and just picked Marines for no real reason other than thinking of John Stewart in the Justice League cartoon (the 2001 one) saying he was in the U.S. Marine Corps. *_Shrug_* I don't even know what the Marine symbol **is**.

**Ro**: I honestly wonder why more people from AO3 haven't come here. I upload chapters I've already finished on AO3 to make it seem as though I am uploading more often on that site.


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